All That Matters
by ShaedowCat
Summary: Chris and Wyatt Halliwell meet a girl called Eryn. Can they save her from her demons? Chapter 23 up
1. Of Seekers and Teeth

Hi everyone,

Because it's been so long since I last posted, I've decided to re-post this story. I've edited it so parts that didn't make sense now do (hopefully…), and it's been Beta'd by my friend and fellow writer, kina24.

I'll post the redone chapters five at a time, and there will be a new chapter once the other 21 are uploaded.

Thanks to everyone who has kept faith!

Luv ShaedowCat

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Set after "future" Chris dies at the hands of Gideon and changes the future. Chris and Wyatt grow up and neither of them are evil, but they face just as many challenges as their parents and aunts did. (Crap summary, but it's my first…)

This fanfic is set in an alternate universe after "future" Chris dies at the hands of Gideon sniffs and tear tracks slowly down cheek, so "future" Chris changed the future, so technically he didn't even need to come back…anyone else getting a headache yet?

Anyway, Chris and Wyatt grow up and neither of them are evil. Piper still dies (sorry, all you Piper fans, but this is the only way I can see this working out…I'll try and write another fic that has Piper living…), and Leo spends a lot of time on Earth…with _both_ his sons (I like Leo, and I think knowing "future" Chris would have made him clean up his act). In my world, Leo never became an Avatar...although the Avatars tried to recruit him, he resisted. They ended up deleting him in an attempt to make the girls see reason, but Piper, Phoebe, and Paige listened to Kyle Brody and helped him defeat them. Kyle was killed in the attempt, but was made a Whitelighter for his bravery.

Also, in my world, Zankou was never released by the demons to combat the Avatars...he remained incarcerated, and was never a threat to the Charmed Ones. Sheridan's memory was wiped by Kyle wnce he became a Whitelighter, and she never exposed - or tried to expose - the Charmed Ones; however, she was killed by a demon a few months after Kyle died. The Charmed Ones never went into hiding.

Phoebe had a daughter she called Prue winces (yeah, I know, so not original, but I think it's a good idea, cause Phoebe really loved her sister) who is four years younger than Chris, and a son, called Josh, who is five years younger than Chris (ps. Oh yeah, Prue and Josh's Dad is Jason Dean, for all those out there who wanted him to make a comeback…)

Paige had a daughter, called Katie. She's almost seven years younger than Wyatt and five years younger than Chris (pps. And, um, well, Kyle is _her_ Dad, for all those out there who wanted _him_ to make a comeback, too...)

This fanfic starts when Chris is around 17, so Wyatt is a year and nine months older, therefore Wyatt is nearly 19 years old, and is out of school, both High and Magic, and helping his father and aunts to run P3. Prue is about 13, Josh and Katie are around 12, but they aren't so much in the fic. I've made it so that Chris is almost as powerful as Wyatt, but in different ways.

Wyatt has got Telekinesis, Telepathy, Temporal Stasis (ability to freeze stuff), Molecular Disintegration (blowing things up), Molecular Reconstruction (turning things into molecular form then changing 'em), Energy Balls, and, of course, Orbing. He also has that power to just wipe out a whole heap of beings at once, the one seen on Episode 20 of Season Seven, Imaginary Friends.

Chris has got Telekinesis, Telepathy, Temporal Stasis, Orb Bolts (my own creation, he basically just conjures a whole heap of little orbs into his hand, & they bond together to create a sort of really, _really_ high-powered energy ball), and he can, of course, Orb. Oh, yeah, and he can do that thing where he scatters orbs, too. (Dunno exactly how to explain it as a power, but hey. It kinda comes from his telekinesis.)

Prue and Josh have both got Premonition, but Josh is the only one who can Levitate, and Prue is an Empath as well.

Katie has got Telekinesis, Orbakinesis (what Paige can do), and Orbing. She can also Conjure small things.

So...Wyatt has eight powers, Chris has five (not counting Orb Scattering, coz it's TK related), Katie has four, and Prue and Josh have two each. All of them gain more powers as they get older, and their present powers get stronger.

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**All That Matters**

Chapter01 - Of Seekers & Teeth

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, and am making no money off this little venture...believe me, if I owned it, Chris never would have died!

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2021

Chris Halliwell backed slowly across the living room floor, his hazel-green eyes fixed unwaveringly on the Seeker Demon in front of him. The part jackal, part eagle, part human creature snuffled its way across the floor, following his steps, its milky-blind eyes occasionally flicking upwards and looking to either side of - or once right at - him.

He didn't dare try freezing it again, considering that last time he'd tried it the damn thing had scented his magick and had gone straight for him. He could always throw an orb bolt at it, but he had a feeling it would sense the orbs gathering in his hand and go for them, too. He sighed, then winced as the demon cocked its head and then looked directly at him. Seeker Demons were blind, but they had extraordinary senses of smell, hearing, taste and touch. They had incredible speed, and the ability to move between realms, making it difficult - in fact, nearly impossible - to outrun them.

It was really annoying him that he couldn't call for his brother or his Dad, and that he couldn't just call for the vanquishing potion sitting on the kitchen counter...if he did, the Seeker Demon would jump him, again. There _was_ a spell that could be used against Seeker Demons, but it could only be used if it was thought by two witches at the same time…_without_ telepathy joining their minds. In Chris' mind, the spell was pretty much a dead loss (why couldn't they use telepathy?), and Seeker Demons were starting to become a major pain in the ass. Three weeks of virtually non-stop attack by these particular Demons had made him short of sleep and short-fused…even more so than he normally was.

He continued his slow progress back out the living room of the living room, through the foyer and into the kitchen, the Seeker Demon all the while following his tracks and steadily getting closer. He backed through the door, and, turning his head, saw the vial of vanquishing potion sitting innocently…on the _other_ side of the bench. He opened his mouth to curse, but remembered exactly _why_ he wanted the potion before he could say anything.

Chris was _annoyed_. It had taken him practically five minutes to move nearly six metres, and now the damned potion bottle was only a metre away, if that…

Fed-up, Chris stretched his hand out toward the little glass vial and TK'd it into his left hand. For half a second, he thought he was in the clear.

Then the Seeker leapt towards him, its eagle's beak opened to reveal the large jackal-like teeth.

Chris felt like time had slowed down. Or quickened up. Or both. He wasn't exactly sure. Whatever. All he saw the demon's eyes focused on his hand. Then empty space. What he felt, though, was something quite different. A sharp, icy pain exploded in his left wrist, and he resisted the urge to cry out.

For all of a millisecond.

"Oh, crap," he yelled at the top of his lungs. Not because he had to. Because he wanted to. He'd been silent for five minutes, for Christ's sake. It just wasn't him. He looked down, and _maybe_ it was his imagination, but the pain seemed to increase ten-fold when he actually _saw_ the dagger-like, serrated teeth digging into his flesh.

_Y'know, maybe there is something to the "If someone doesn't see it, they don't feel it so much" idea,_ he thought idly, before grabbing the Seeker by the scruff of the neck with his other hand and slamming its head into the kitchen counter.

"Let. Me. Go," he said pseudo-calmly, punctuating each word by smashing the demon's head into the corner of the counter. The Seeker gave a furious growl and dug its teeth even deeper into his wrist. Chris heard - and felt - the ugly mutt's teeth scrape against the bone of his fore-arm.

He gasped silently, then murmured, "Ow-w-w-w."

Glancing down at his arm, he saw…nothing. Except a slick of red blood that he may or may not have called his arm at one stage before this hell-spawn demon decided to use it as a bloody - no pun intended - chew-toy.

_Jesus-Christ-all-mighty-if-only-I-had-the-vanquishing-potion-I'd-make-this-demon-wish-he'd-never-been-born,_ he thought murderously as he spun around and smashed its head into the island counter.

And then…it _clicked_.

"Oh my God, I am such a bloody idiot," he growled to himself, rolling his eyes. Ignoring the pain, he managed to open the hand inside the Seekers mouth and smash the vial open on the wall of its mouth, releasing the potion down its gullet.

The effect - to say the least - was rather spectacular.

The Seeker's body glowed, then started to fizz all over, then - with a dull _whump_ - it imploded. Its body turned to flames, to charcoal, to a fine ash, before finally turning to smoke and dissipating.

Chris slumped back against the wall, his right hand holding his left arm, just below his wrist. He glanced down at his wrist and groaned...then frowned. He poked gingerly at the black bump protruding from his wrist. Bit of a mistake, it seemed, to do, because it _hurt_. His vision went for a moment before returning in sharper focus.

He squinted at the black mass, then gingerly grabbed it with his index finger and thumb and began working it out his wrist. He, quite literally, saw stars, and his brain began sending him frantic signals, telling him that he was in pain.

"I _know,_" he muttered under his breath, the stopped for a second. "Oh my God, I'm talking to myself," he realised, then rolled his eyes. "I definitely need therapy." He again began working the piece of demonic paraphernalia out of him. After half a minute, the object was half way out. Chris grabbed it tightly, gritted his teeth, and yanked.

He hissed. It seemed that the pain of having it in his arm was surpassed only by the pain of it coming _out_ of his arm. He closed his eyes for a brief second, then opened them to look at his catch.

It was a tooth. A black, razor-sharp, jackal-like tooth, about an inch and a half long. He stared at for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"Uh-huh. Okay. I had a tooth imbedded in my arm. Okay. No big deal." He winced and examined his arm. "But blood gushing from my arm may be a bit of a deal." He glanced upwards.

"Uh…Dad?"

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	2. Spacing School & Ticking Timebombs

**All That Matters**

Chapter02 - Spacing School & Ticking Timebombs

Disclaimer: All disclaimers apply

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"I…you…What the Hell _possessed_ you?"

Wyatt Matthew Halliwell was leaning against the living room wall, his dark brown eyes disbelieving as he stared at his younger brother. Chris was sitting on the sofa, his left arm outstretched, while their father, Leo, held his hands over the wound. Pale gold light encased his wrist, then dissipated, leaving the skin complete…whole…healed.

Chris examined his arm closely, then glanced up at Leo. "Thanks, Dad," he said cheerfully, a grin on his face, before bouncing to his feet and flicking his hand experimentally at the remote. It practically jumped off the coffee table and sailed neatly across and into his outstretched hand. He smirked at his brother.

"Perfect," he remarked, collapsing languidly into the armchair and beginning to channel surf. Wyatt glanced at Leo, then raised his hand and telekinetically yanked the remote out of Chris' grip. His younger brother stared at his left hand, then slowly turned his head to look at Wyatt. "What?" he asked, gesturing with his hands. Wyatt glared at him.

"I said, 'What the Hell possessed you?', remember? I'm still waiting on a reply!"

Chris sighed and rolled his eyes. "Wy, I'm not a baby, I can take care of myself…"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. And get a mangled arm in the process!" Wyatt yelled. Chris shot him a look.

"My arm was _not_ mangled. It was…"

"Mangled."

"NO! It was…severely…maimed."

"Oh yes, and that is _so_ much better," Wyatt said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Chris gave him an irritated look.

"Anyone would think you didn't believe I was capable of vanquishing demons after…how many years? And how many vanquishes?" Chris looked at his father. "Come on, Dad, tell him I'm fine...that I can look out for myself and he _doesn't_ need to worry!" Leo shook his head.

"Can't do it, Chris."

Chris stared at him. "Why the Hell not? I'm fine, not a scratch, a mark, not a blemish…"

"Except for that thing on the front of your head," Wyatt observed. Chris frowned.

"What thing?" he asked warily.

"Your face," Wyatt said with a quick grin before becoming serious. "Look, it's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself…"

"Yes it is," Chris retorted, his eyes narrowed.

"No, it's not, so just shut up and listen!" Wyatt snapped, exasperated. "I know you can look after yourself. But you're my kid brother. I'm allowed to - supposed to - worry about you."

Chris glared at him for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I guess you're right…" he said grudgingly, then frowned and said, "I object." Wyatt and Leo exchanged looks, then Wyatt sighed.

"What to?"

Chris gave him a dirty look, and he spoke very, very slowly. "Don't call me a _kid_." Wyatt laughed.

"Oh, god, is that it? Jesus, bro, you are one strange _kid._" He emphasized the word 'kid'.

"Bastard," Chris shot at him.

"Watch it, Chris," Leo said sharply. Chris glanced at his Dad, then glanced down.

"Sorry, Dad," he muttered, kicking at the leg of the coffee table. Leo's eyes narrowed as he watched his youngest son. Something had just struck him.

"Chris, what day is it?" he asked casually. The seventeen-year-old stared at him.

"Ummm…it's Wednesday, Dad," he replied, slightly confused.

"Right. And, uh, what do you have from 8.45 'til three o'clock on weekdays?" he queried. Chris' face paled.

"Oh, crap," he hissed, scrambling out of the chair and grabbing his bag from the sofa. "I totally spaced on school!"

"Want me to give you a lift?" Wyatt asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Uh, no, I'll orb, it'll be quicker," Chris said, his voice echoing as his body turned to orbs, before dissipating. Wyatt sighed.

"One day someone's gonna see him orbing, and then all Hell is gonna break loose," Leo observed. Wyatt shrugged.

"Yeah, but this is Chris we're talkin' about, Dad. He'll be fine." Leo nodded reluctantly, then glanced at his watch. Wyatt noticed. "Somewhere to be, Dad?" he asked. Leo grinned wryly.

"One of my charges is in some trouble. Something happened to them, but they sent me a message telling me to meet them at a specific time, and that time is...well, right about now. And speaking of charges…" He arched an eyebrow at Wyatt. "Don't you have one of your own charges to look out for…to protect?" Wyatt snorted.

"Are you kidding?" he asked darkly. "It's more like I need protection from her…the girl is a ticking time bomb!" Leo shot him a look. 'What, I'm serious!" he protested. Leo nodded.

"I know, that's what's worrying me…" he trailed off as Wyatt laughed. Leo smiled. "Good Luck, Wy." Wyatt nodded.

"Good luck to you, too, Dad. I think you'll need it more than me."

"Thanks," Leo said with a quick nod as he orbed out, leaving Wyatt standing alone in the middle of the living room. He sighed, glanced around, and orbed out.

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	3. My Morning Nap Raged Out of Control

**All That Matters**

Chapter 03 - My Morning Nap Raged Out of Control

Disclaimer: All disclaimers apply

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Chris ran down the hall and skidded to a halt outside of his Chem class. He took a second to brush his hair out of his eyes, then opened the door and walked in. 

Mr O'Shannon arched one salt-and-pepper eyebrow at him. "Nice to see you could join us, Master Halliwell," he said, drawing sniggers from the back row. Chris smirked at him.

"Nice to see you too, Con," he replied, walking to his usual desk and sitting down.

Chris had discovered in his freshman year - during a detention, but that was beside the point - that Mr Connor O'Shannon, aged forty-five next September, was - behind the stern mask, sarcastic remarks, and burly, six foot frame - actually a very nice guy, with a fondness of cartoon animals, a love of debating and arguing, a talent for writing, and strangely - or not, depending on where you were standing - a belief in magic, even without physical proof.

By the end of the detention the two had struck up a firm friendship.

Chris had made it a point during his freshman year to get as many detentions as he possibly could, simply so he could continue to see Con - as he was told he could call him - and argue about the existence of - you guessed it - magic. That was because he didn't have Con for any of his classes until the next year.

And ever since, Chris had been able to get away with anything in O'Shannon's class.

O'Shannon narrowed his eyes slightly. "And where exactly _have_ you been, Master Chris?" Chris eyes fell on the picture of a snoozing Garfield on O'Shannon's tie and cocked his head slightly to one side.

"My morning nap raged out of control, sir," he said innocently. It was common knowledge that Chris spent a great deal of time hanging out with his friends on the skateboard ramp, cat-napping. Of course, it wasn't common knowledge _why_ he took so many cat-naps - due to lack of sleep from demon-hunting at night - but everyone just took it for granted. O'Shannon grinned.

"'Garfield: This is your life' Special," he observed, before turning and writing _2,7,7,8 Tetra-ethyl, 4,6 Di-propyl Nonane_ on the board. "Chris, this is your punishment. I want no-one but Chris to do this. Chris, you are to draw this Alkane on the board. Right now." Chris stared at him.

"What?" he asked incredulously. Con narrowed his eyes slightly: he was serious. Chris sighed, got to his feet, and walked over to the holo-board. He grabbed the sensor pen and began to draw. Nine Cs in a row, all joined by a line. A line out of each end, and then lines out of the top and bottom of each C. He numbered each C from 1 to 9, and wrote an H at the end of all the lines except the Cs numbered 2, 4,6, 7, and 8. Then he stopped.

"Mono, ethyl, Methyl, Bi, ethyl, Ethyl," he mumbled under his breath, before going on. He wrote in the correct number of Cs and Hs, circled it neatly, bowed to Con and the rest of the class, and went back to his seat. Con walked over and inspected his work.

"Could you have written any smaller, Christopher?" he asked, squinting at the minute handwriting on the board. Chris smirked.

"I could've, Con, but then I would've needed a magnifying glass," he said, the smirk still playing on his lips as the teacher turned round. Con smirked in return, and he had just opened his mouth to say something when the bell rang.

"Everyone do pages five hundred and seventy-eight through five hundred and ninety - "

The whole class groaned.

" - And no groaning or I'll make you do an extra ten - "

The groaning stopped.

" - And Master Christopher Halliwell to, in addition, study pages five-seventy through seventy-seven and do an essay on the differences between Alkanes, Alkenes, Alkynes, and Alcohols, their various names up to Dec, and the uses of one of each of them, to be handed to me on Monday, _no_ excuses."

Chris groaned.

"Ah, god, Con, you're killin' me! An extra essay…that's sure as Hell gonna screw up my weekend…" he grumbled.

Con raised his eyebrows. "Well you'd better get a move on and do it tonight, hadn't you?" he said with a wink. Chris sighed, scribbled down his homework in his book, and headed for the door. "Oh, and Chris, one more thing…" the teacher began.

"What?"

"Where were you for forty-odd minutes?"

Chris stopped and glanced round. "I told you, my morning nap raged out of control," he said casually, with a faint shrug. Well, it was hardly like he could say that he had nearly had his hand ripped off by a four-foot-tall mutant-troll-jackal-eagle freak with sharp teeth, one of which he had in his pocket. It was…well…a little personal. To say the least. So he fell back on a phrase his aunt Phoebe used quite a lot to explain her erratic attendance at work.

"I had a…family emergency."

Con arched an eyebrow. "A family emergency."

"That's right," Chris said with a nod. Con sighed.

"If you insist, Chris."

"I do, Connor."

The old man narrowed his eyes slightly. "Get out of here, you impertinent young toad, before I give you a Saturday. That would _really_ but a crimp in your style." Chris smirked.

"Yes, Sir," he murmured as he walked out the door. He paused for a moment outside the classroom just in time to catch Con muttering something that can't quite be announced on prime-time, shook his head, then headed for his locker. As he neared it, he began TK'ing the dial to the correct combo. Chris had grown accustomed to putting the lock on his locker on backwards, so that when he TK'd the lock, no one would notice. He stopped in front of his locker just as the last tumbler clicked into place, and he pulled the body of the lock down. The locker door swung open, and he threw his books in, putting a tiny bit of TK into it to make it _really_ satisfying. He sighed.

"Geez, _someone's_ pissed," a familiar voice from his left commented. He glanced up and saw a lithe, tanned 17-year-old boy with bright blue eyes and electric purple and acid yellow spiked hair leaning against the locker beside his. He felt his eyes widen in shock.

"Um, yeah…Todd, what did you do to your hair?" Chris asked slowly. His friend grinned.

"You like it?" he asked, stepping away from the locker and spinning around to show Chris the back of his head, which was lime-green with orange stripes. Turning around the right way, he bowed his head, giving Chris a view of the electric pink swirl on the crown of his head. "I got it done last night," he enthused, adding with a cheerful grin, "Isn't it great?"

"So, do you like Todd's 'do?" A girl's voice asked before he had a chance to answer. Chris glanced at her.

"You know what, Tash? I actually do. I mean, once you get over the shock of seeing so many different colours on the one head, it's not too bad. Sure, it's a bit wilder than he usually has it, but still…"

Tash looked disgusted. "You were my last hope, Chris. You and Jack are the only ones he will listen to, and yet both of you have gone and said that his hair is fine, even - dare I say it - great!" She shook her head in distaste. "I'm surrounded by idiots." And with that parting remark, she spun on her heel and strode off down the corridor, her dark blonde ponytail swinging as she walked. Both Chris and Todd watched her go.

"Unbelievable," Todd said, shaking his head, adding in an awed tone, "And I'm _related_ to her…Jesus, what the Hell went wrong? I mean, we're twins for god's sake! Fraternal, sure, but still, we're s'posed to stick up for one another, not rag on each other's 'dos." Chris gave a wry grin.

"Yeah, I know what you mean…" His thoughts turned to Wyatt's remark about his face almost a quarter of an hour ago, and he snorted. "My face…" he grumbled under his breath, before glancing at Todd, who had an amused expression on his face. "What?"

"Dude, you need a shrink," his friend said with a smirk before turning and opening his own locker. "Oh, and by the way," he added, his voice now muffled by the locker door, "three guesses what we've got up next, and the first two don't count." Chris groaned.

"Begins with R, E, and S?" he asked grimly, grabbing his books from his locker and slamming the door shut, not entirely by physical means. Todd shut his own locker door with considerably less force and nodded.

"Yep. Sorry." He knew his friend was touchy about religion, especially when it got to parts about burning witches and stuff. Chris always said he was just angry that so many innocent people had been brutally murdered simply because they used herbs and plants to heal, and Todd had to agree.

Chris sighed and leaned his forehead against the door of his locker.

"Could this day _get_ any worse?" he asked morosely.

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	4. Tartarus

**All That Matters**

Chapter 04 - Tartarus

Disclaimer: All disclaimers apply

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Leo Wyatt orbed into the back room of the demonic bar. Tartarus was a well-known and respected demonic bar on the west side of San Francisco. His charge had told him to meet them here, because - hopefully - their energy would be masked by all the magick in the air. 

Leo opened the door and walked out onto the main floor. Demons of every caste, level, age and sex walked, talked and drank as freely as if it were the Underworld. Absolutely nothing looked out of place here, even the girl of about seventeen years of age sitting in a corner booth on the far side of the floor, drinking a Bacardi Breezer as she coolly observed what looked like a demonic hit-job being commissioned. Leo sighed and began threading his way through the crowd towards her.

Eryn Connors sat calmly in a corner booth, waiting for her Whitelighter to show, a lime Bacardi Breezer set on the table in front of her. She glanced at her watch, and gave a faint hiss of impatience. She unconsciously tucked a strand of Irish-red hair behind her ear before taking a swig of her drink and turning her attentions to the Stoli Demon commissioning a group of Seeker Demons for a hit.

She listened with an avid interest as the Stoli at the table in front of her told the Seekers, "Now, I don't care how many of you die, or how long it takes. You are gonna get back to that house and nab those two brats, understand me? I want Chris and Wyatt Halliwell's heads on a stick and in front of my lair within a month. Got it? Good. Now go." She arched an eyebrow slightly as the Seekers shimmered away.

"I do _not_ envy those two, whoever they are," she murmured to herself as she took another sip of her drink. She frowned and took another quick glance at her watch, then looked up as a warm voice said softly, "Worried?"

"Just a tad," she replied, relieved, as Leo Wyatt, her Whitelighter, sat down opposite her. She leaned forward slightly and narrowed her dark grey eyes at him. "Where have you been, hmm? I've been waiting for fifteen minutes, he could've caught up to me in that time!" Leo frowned.

"Speaking of which, what happened?" he asked. Eryn sighed.

"I got a premonition that a demon was going to kill an innocent a couple of blocks from where I was. I couldn't just let it happen, so I went out to stop it." She shook her head slightly, then went on. "Anyway, I vanquished it easy, but when the smoke cleared, there he was, standing right in front of me. The Mighty Ardariaen." She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Let's just say I didn't plan on seeing the most powerful demon in the Underworld at a simple vanquish."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I orbed my ass outta there, what do you _think_ I did! I orbed up to the top of the bridge to tell you I was in trouble, then I headed for the Underworld. And, before you say anything," she added, as Leo opened his mouth to speak, an annoyed look on his face, "it was my only hope, okay? He wouldn't think of looking for me there, and all that demonic energy…" She trailed off. Leo nodded reluctantly, then straightened up suddenly.

"So, he'd set it up?" he asked with a frown. Eryn sighed and nodded her affirmation, putting her fingers to her temples.

"Looks that way. So that means he _knew_ where I was."

"Well, we've got to get you out of here, to somewhere safe." Leo said, making to stand up. Eryn folded her arms and leaned forward slightly.

"Leo. I don't know if you've noticed, but this is Ardariaen we're talking about. He'll find me. Goddess knows he's had the practice…" Leo narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Giving up?" he asked calmly, leaning back against the back of the booth. Eryn hissed at him.

"No," she snarled.

"Then what are you doing?"

Eryn watched him closely as she told him, "I want to take the fight to him." Leo's eyes widened in shock.

"No. No way."

"Why not?"

"You're not powerful enough, that's why!"

"Leo, I've gained three powers in the last month! If I keep going at this rate, I'll explode! I can fight him. Just give me a chance…"

But Leo was shaking his head.

"No," he said again. "No way." Eryn leaned back with a faint sigh. She swallowed hard, then looked up at him.

"I'm gonna die, Leo."

"You're not going to die."

"He's going to find me. He's going to catch me. He's going to kill me." She sighed. "I heard what she said, Leo, remember? 'She will gain powers unheard of in a witch, and he will find her, and kill her, and take her powers for himself. And he will engulf the world in darkness.' I _heard_ her _tell_ him, Leo." Leo shook his head.

"Maybe she told him what he wanted to hear," he said with a faint shrug. Eryn shook her head.

"Prophecy doesn't work that way, Leo, and you know it. Now, if she'd had a premonition, that would be another thing entirely. But she didn't. She was a prophetess. She didn't have premonitions. She couldn't say anything of her own volition if she had a vision."

Leo sighed. "I'm sorry," he told her

Eryn nodded. "Me too," she whispered. Leo reached out and lay a hand on one of hers. He'd already come to a decision. The problem, he realized grimly, was getting her to accept it.

"Look. Prophecies can be thwarted. So we'll do everything in our power to ensure that happens this time. You're coming with me -" Eryn opened her mouth to object. "- _No_ objections -" She closed it again with a muted click. "- because I know she wouldn't have wanted you to want to die just to fulfil her prophecy."

"I don't want to die," Eryn said, giving Leo a strange look. He grinned.

"Good. That settles it. You're coming back to the Manor."

Eryn narrowed her eyes slightly. "You actually live down here?" Then she frowned. "The Manor?" she queried, arching an eyebrow. He nodded. "Weird," she murmured under her breath. He grinned, then stood up.

"Come on, we'll go out the back. We can't exactly orb from in here, and I'll have to orb you so you know where to go."

Eryn nodded and got to her feet, stretching. She flicked her heavy red pony-tail over her shoulder, grabbed a small black bag from off the seat and slung it over her shoulder. She rolled her shoulders and rolled her head, cricking her neck as she did so.

"All right," she said taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She shot Leo a quick grin. "All set. Let's rock."

They headed across the main floor and up the stairs to the secondary floor, before turning left and walking towards the big steel door. They had almost made it when a certain…something…stopped them.

"Where're you goin'?" a deep voice rumbled. Eryn and Leo looked at the bar to see a massive Brute Demon staring at them menacingly. Eryn's lip curled.

"What's it look like?" she asked, her voice menacing. "Out."

"You didn't pay your tab," he replied, his voice just as threatening.

"Yeah, I did," Eryn snarled, her grey eyes stormy, "And if you wanna make somethin' of it, say I lied, we can just take this to the floor and I can vanquish your Mack truck ass." The Brute growled.

"What did you say, bitch?" he asked, livid.

"You heard me."

Leo grabbed Eryn's arm. "Eryn, we've gotta get outta here," he told her urgently. She shrugged him off.

"Leo, just wait a…second…" Her voice trailed off as the Brute, assuming he wasn't being watched, ran a massive hand over a small black crystal lying innocently on the bar.

_Oh…no…_ she thought, her grey eyes fixed on the Ronyx crystal. She looked at Leo.

"You're right. Let's go," she said, and they headed towards the door. Eryn felt a group of beings shimmer in behind her, and a cold chill worked its way through her body. She heard the gasps from the crowd: the whispers of "Ardariaen…" "He's here: Ardariaen…" and, for one, solitary second, she froze...but then Leo put a hand in the middle of her back and shoved her, hard, and they were running out the door.

"AFTER THEM!" an icy voice roared, a voice so powerful, so compelling, so utterly terrifying that half the demons on the second floor flooded out of the doors after…well, after them.

Leo ran down the alley, Eryn right beside him. They turned sharply into a narrow walkway, some of the faster demons behind them. Leo fumbled for her hand as they ran.

They orbed out in a swirl of blue and white orbs.

* * *


	5. Suspensions, Omens, & Losing Control

* * *

Chris slammed the kitchen door closed with such force that one of the stained glass panels actually fell out and smashed on the floor. 

"CHRIS!" Wyatt yelled from the living room.

"WHAT?" Chris yelled back.

"I don't care how pissed off you are, you better not have broken anything that isn't actually yours!" Wyatt stormed into the kitchen.

"OR WHAT?" Chris yelled, throwing his bag at his older brother. Wyatt arched an eyebrow and deflected it onto the counter with a wave of his hand.

"What is up your ass?" he asked, annoyed. Chris glared at him.

"What's up yours?" he snarled in return. Wyatt slammed a hand down on the counter, making him flinch slightly.

"Watch it, Chris," his older brother said, his voice low. Chris met his eyes for a moment, before looking away, a dull flush rising in his cheeks. Wyatt sighed. "Chris, what's wrong?" he asked. Chris looked up again, and Wyatt thought he was going to tell him, but he shook his head slightly, gave a faint hiss, and brushed past him.

Wyatt watched him go, then gave another sigh and glanced at Chris' bag. He frowned slightly, then stepped up to the counter and flipped the bag over.

"Oh no, please not again," he groaned, eyeing the white envelope sticking out of the front of Chris' bag. He took a deep breath to steady himself, pulled a chair over to the bench, then flicked his fingers at the envelope and TK'd it out of the pocket. His fears were confirmed as he read the line typed across the front: TO PARENT/GUARDIAN.

He grabbed it out of the air and drew a finger along the seal, an inch or so above it. The flap of the envelope slid open, and he pulled the letter out and began to read.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Dear Parent/Guardian,_

_It is our duty to inform you that your son, Chris Halliwell, has received an infringement due to disrespectful behaviour towards a teacher and disruptive behaviour during class. The details of this behaviour are listed below._

_- Arguing with/shouting at a teacher in front of the rest of the class_

_- Using inappropriate language in class and to a teacher_

_- Throwing objects at a teacher_

_- Destroying school property_

_- Leaving class/school grounds without permission_

_Chris has also received a second infringement due to fighting during school time. He, allegedly without provocation, attacked a fellow student and caused an unknown amount of damage to the student._

_Unfortunately, it is also our duty to inform you that the amount of infringements Chris has received, including these two, has resulted in his suspension from school for a total of two weeks._

_An appointment may be made to negotiate these consequences._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr George Babington Principal_

_Ms Faye Harding Vice Principal_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wyatt groaned.

_This is just what we need,_ he thought grimly. He laid the letter down on the bench and read it again, his eyes flicking through the bullshit to get to the details of what Chris had done. He frowned when he got to the "throwing objects at the teacher" part.

He held out his hand, and a red pen came flying through the air into his grip. He wrote "TK" next to the line concerning throwing things, then circled the line above it - "using inappropriate language in class and to a teacher" - and wrote "TP" next to it with a question mark. He then drew an arrow from "leaving class/school grounds without permission" that connected it to the point about "throwing objects at a teacher".

Wyatt read the two points left without a mark ("arguing with/shouting at a teacher in front of the rest of the class" and "destroying school property "), then TK'd a black marker from the windowsill above the sink and circled them both. He connected them with an arc, and wrote "prob. him" next to the arc before replacing the cap on the pen. Then, with a wave of his hand, he sent the letter soaring across the room until it hit the fridge. A magnet unstuck itself from its position and jumped neatly onto the middle of the letter, securing it firmly. The two pens leapt into the air and flew to their respective places.

He got to his feet and walked to the kitchen door. The stained-glass panel was lying on the ground, broken into three. Wyatt frowned. This was the panel he and Chris had made for their mother, Piper, when they were little. It was of a blue, purple, and green triquetra on a yellow background, outlined in black. Chris didn't remember making it (he'd been two, nearly three), but he did. It had taken them forever to get the arcs equal.

But this wasn't what he was frowning about. Sure, he was upset that it had been broken, but it could be fixed in no time. What was strange was the fact that the triquetra itself had been split into three. The centre triangle had been split into three equal pieces, and the blue, purple, and green sections had been split with their respective piece of the centre. It was almost like an omen. Wyatt felt a shiver go up his spine, but he shrugged the feeling off.

"You're a bit late," he told the tile, picking the pieces up and placing them on the kitchen counter. He swallowed hard. "The Power of Three was broken nearly three years ago," he said, a catch in his voice. He set the pieces down, broken edges together, and was about to say a spell to repair them…but didn't. Instead - slowly, as if in a dream - he separated the pieces by an inch, then moved the blue third of the triquetra back in about a half an inch.

He glanced around the kitchen, and the letter from Chris' - and his former - school caught his eye. He frowned, then looked upward, towards Chris' room. He paused, then orbed up to the hall outside his brother's room. Through the heavy wooden door he could hear something that sounded suspiciously like Good Charlotte. He rapped gently on the door with his knuckles.

"Chris?" he called, his voice soft. Even though the music was loud, he knew his brother could hear him, but the door stayed closed. He knocked a little louder, then TP'd to his brother : _Chris?_ :

For half a minute, he stood outside, waiting patiently, then he heard the lock give a muted click. He looked down and saw the doorknob turn, then the door creaked open. He walked inside.

Chris' room wasn't as neat as it usually was, with half his wardrobe, his MD/CD collection and all his books all over the floor and bed, but Wyatt knew that before dinner it would be back to its former glory and fully-deserving its reputation as the cleanest room in the house. Chris had inherited the "neat-freak" gene from Piper; Wyatt had inherited the "un-neat" gene from Leo.

Chris was sitting in the only clean patch of the bed with his headphones hanging round his neck, Good Charlotte's "Lifestyles of The Rich and The Famous" booming out at such an amazing volume Wyatt was surprised his younger brother hadn't gone deaf.

"Pissed off?" Wyatt asked as he pushed Chris' leather jacket off the bed so he could sit beside his brother. Chris nodded mutely. Wyatt watched him closely. "What happened?"

: _Don'twannatalk'boutit,_ : Chris' thoughts flicked out at him. Wyatt sighed.

"What subject was it, then?"

: _DON'TWANNATALK'BOUTIT! _: Chris' thoughts slammed into his mind so hard that Wyatt gasped in pain. For a few minutes, all he could see was stars, then his vision slowly began to clear. He swallowed hard. This sort of thing happened all the time, so he had gotten used to it. All he had to do was wait out the insta-migraine.

Chris had had a great control of his tele-powers, once. But then, their mom had died, their lives had all gone to hell, and so had Chris' fine degree of control. Ever since, Chris' emotions had become wild and unpredictable, and so had his powers.

"Chris, you gotta get a hold of your self," he finally managed to say.

: _I…know _: Chris' voice, barely more than a whisper, echoed in his mind. Wyatt glanced at him. Chris was staring straight ahead, his face full of pain. He was breathing in short, irregular gasps. Wyatt slid an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"Breathe, okay? Just breathe…" After a few minutes, Chris began to breathe normally. Wyatt gave him a tight hug, then pulled back. "Jesus, kid, you really know how to scare someone, you know that?" Chris nodded slowly. "Is this what happened at school? You lost control?" He nodded again. Wyatt took a deep breath.

"I'm figuring you got upset about something your teacher said about witches - I'm assuming this was in RES, by the way - and started yelling that they didn't know what they were talking about, then your TP got out of hand, and what you were thinking about them got projected. Then your TK got out of control, too, and some of your stuff started flying around. Then…"

"Then I ripped up the RES textbook," Chris mumbled, his voice hoarse. Wyatt nodded.

"And after that, you realised what you were doing with the TK, and you…left?"

Chris nodded. "I didn't want to hurt anybody, Wy!" he said desperately. "I mean, my pencil case had already almost hit the old cow twice, and I was getting even angrier, and some of my stuff was starting to go in other directions, not just at that…that…" he stopped, lost for words. Wyatt nodded. Chris glanced at him.

"I've gotta suspension, haven't I?" he asked shakily. Wyatt gave him a reassuring look.

"Don't worry, Dad'll understand. He won't get angry or anything…I mean, he didn't that time I got suspended…"

"That was different, you didn't let your powers get the best of you, you just wagged school 'cause a demon showed up and threatened to kill your friends." Chris interjected. Wyatt shrugged.

"So? You had a good reason, that cow was insulting our heritage. Don't worry about it." Wyatt shot him a grin, adding, "And you'll get two weeks off school…"

Chris gave him a reluctant grin. "Now _that_ will be good…except that I have to do an essay for Con." Wyatt stared at him. "What?" Chris asked defensively. "I like the guy."

"You are weird, Chris…" Wyatt said, shaking his head slightly.

"They say siblings have the greatest influence on a person," Chris shot back with a smirk, "So you'll have a lot to answer if it ever goes to court…" They both laughed.

"Chris, Wyatt?" A faint voice called from floor below, and a sound like a chorus of bells and voices rang in their ears. Chris jumped to his feet.

"Dad's home," he said, running to the door and out. Wyatt got slowly to his feet, a faint grin on his face, and followed.

* * *


	6. Stoli Couples & Seeker Telepaths

* * *

Eryn stared as a guy about her age with dark brown hair and Leo's hazel-green eyes came hurtling down the stairs. "Hey, Dad," he called, skidding to a stop and grabbing Leo in a bear hug. Leo hugged him back just as tightly.

"Hey, Chris," Leo replied. "How's the wrist?"

Chris held it up for inspection. "Perfect, not a scar, not a blemish, nothing. As usual. Hey, how long 'til I can heal?"

Leo shrugged. "Not a clue. You might start soon, or later, or not at all. Paige couldn't heal until a few years back, remember?" Chris nodded. Leo glanced over at the stairs to where Wyatt was walking down. "I see you survived yet another day with your ticking time-bomb, Wy?" Leo said, a small smirk on his face.

Wyatt's grin turned to a scowl. "The girl is intolerable!" he grumbled, walking over and sitting on the back of the sofa. "One of us is going to have to die by the end of the week if we're gonna achieve any sort of peace, and I'm tellin' ya, my energy balls are startin' to look very friendly…"

Chris laughed. Leo, however, shot his older son a look. "Wyatt…"

"…don't even joke about it, I'm there to protect her, I know, I know." Wyatt said with a pained expression on his face. He sighed and rolled his eyes at Chris, then looked at Eryn. "Who're you?" he asked. Chris looked at her curiously.

Eryn stared at them both. "You're Chris and Wyatt…Halliwell. Right?" Chris and Wyatt glanced at each other.

"Umm…yeah…why? And…how did you know?" Wyatt asked, arching an eyebrow. Eryn shook her head slightly.

"Not important. Uh…you wouldn't have happened to vanquish any Stoli Demons lately, would you?" she queried. Chris and Wyatt stared at her. She elaborated. "You know, Upper-level Demon, looks like a Brute Demon, except they have these massive horns that come out of the tops of their heads and curl back over their heads and down their backs, a bit like a helmet?"

Chris nodded slowly. "Yeah, we know what you're talking about. And yes, we did vanquish a Stoli, about three weeks ago. Why?" Eryn didn't answer.

"Have you been attacked by any Seeker demons lately?" she persisted. Wyatt stood up.

"For about three weeks now. Why? I - we - want an answer."

Eryn sighed. "Because I was at Tartarus a few hours ago and I heard a Stoli commissioning an entire clan of Seekers to come and kill you. I think his exact words were something along the lines of: 'I want Chris and Wyatt Halliwell's head on a stick and in front of my lair within a month.'" She arched an eyebrow at them. "You certainly pissed him off."

"What did we ever do to him?" Chris asked, annoyed.

"I'm assuming you didn't realize that Stolis work in pairs."

Wyatt swallowed hard. "They do?" he asked faintly. He glanced at Chris.

"We're in trouble…" Chris murmured in a sing-song tone under his breath.

"Mm-hmm. Male/Female couples. I'm guessing you killed the guy's mate. Of course he's angry," Eryn explained.

"Oh…" Wyatt began, glancing at the coffee table. "…no," he finished as a pair of Seekers shimmered in at either end of it. They began sniffing the air enthusiastically, searching for Chris and Wyatt's scent. Wyatt glanced at his brother. "Chris, the spell," he murmured softly. Chris nodded.

_Demon trackers, we vanquish thee,_ they both began to think at the same time, yet separately. _By wind and earth and_ : _fire and sea_: they continued, slipping unconsciously into a TP link.

As they finished the second line of the spell, a piercing scream filled their minds, breaking their connection and making them both gasp with pain. But it didn't stop. It increased in volume, making them drop to their knees.

"Oh, crap," Eryn hissed, powering up an energy ball in each hand.

"What's wrong with them?" Leo asked, a worried yet wary eye on his sons and the Seekers, who were both standing with their paw-like hands outstretched towards Chris and Wyatt.

"Seekers are Telepaths, and Chris and Wyatt just made a TP link," Eryn said grimly before throwing the two crackling white energy balls at the demons. They both yowled in fury and pain, releasing their TP hold on the Halliwells, and jumped at Eryn. She jumped onto the sofa, freezing the moment she landed. The Seekers gave two furious growls, thwarted for the moment, and began sniffing where Eryn had stood. She nodded to Leo.

_"Get them up and heal them,"_ she mouthed. She gently tapped her temple, and he nodded in understanding. He walked gingerly over to Chris and placed a hand near his son's temple. A nimbus of gold light issued from Leo's hand, and after a second, Chris gave a low groan and got shakily to his feet. Leo did the same to Wyatt, and he, too, got to his feet.

_"Thanks,"_ Chris mouthed to Leo, who shook his head before nodding at the girl about Chris' age standing on the back of the sofa, her eyes fixed on the Seekers.

She glanced over at them, then mouthed, _"Do you have any vanquishing potion?"_ Both Chris and Wyatt nodded.

_"Upstairs, attic, third floor,"_ Wyatt mouthed back, and she nodded. She glanced at the stairs, then cocked her head slightly. Her eyes flicked from the floor to the top of the railing, as if measuring the distance. She swallowed hard, glanced again at the Seekers, then gave a low hiss.

"Pssst."

The Seekers jumped as if electrified and leapt at her. She dodged them, jumped down from the sofa, and ran for the stairs. The demons followed her to the stairs, but she jumped, grabbed the railing and hauled herself up. The Seekers snapped angrily at her heels, then began searching for the foot of the stairs. They found it just as she flipped over the railing onto the landing. They swarmed up the stairs to the landing, and she sprinted up the rest of the stairs to the second floor.

Leo, Chris and Wyatt heard the trio racing up the stairs, then they heard two savage snarls, the tinkle of breaking glass, and two muffled whumps. For a second nothing else happened, then the familiar sound of someone orbing in was heard, and Eryn appeared out of a shower of blue and white orbs.

"Done and done," she announced, holding out a couple of vials of potion to Chris and Wyatt. "I think you may need these," she added.

"Thanks," Wyatt said, shooting her a grin. "For the potion and the vanquishing."

"No worries," she responded.

"So you're a Whitelighter?" Chris asked, his voice odd. Wyatt glanced at him, then rolled his eyes.

_Here we go again,_ he thought grimly. Chris hated Whitelighters. Well, it wasn't that he hated them; he just hated it when they tried to replace their Dad as their Whitelighter, so he could go back to the Heavens. Ever since Chris had been two, Whitelighters had shown up every three months or so, trying to take Leo's place, and every time, Wyatt and Chris had…ahem…"assisted" them in realizing that this wasn't the job for them.

Wyatt had a feeling this girl wasn't going to try and replace Leo, but he knew Chris did, and there was no arguing with Chris about this. He'd already lost one parent, and he'd be damned if he'd lose another. The girl didn't seem to notice Chris' - albeit veiled - animosity.

"You…could say that," she said slowly. Chris nodded. Leo stepped in.

"Eryn, meet my sons, Chris and Wyatt Halliwell. Chris, Wyatt, this is Eryn Connors. She's gonna be staying here for a while, okay?"

They both nodded, Chris reluctantly. "That's cool, Dad. We'd be happy to have her here...right?" Wyatt said, nudging Chris not-so-gently with TK.

"Yeah. That's cool," Chris echoed. Eryn eyed Chris, and Wyatt suddenly realized that the girl had noticed Chris' hostility. He was amazed: although he had noticed it, he was Chris' brother. Someone would have to be pretty intuitive, or Empathetic, to realize that Chris was annoyed if he didn't want them to. He glanced at Chris.

"So, Chris, got something you want to show Dad?" he asked lightly. His younger brother shot him a dirty look, temporarily forgetting Eryn.

"I hate you."

* * *


	7. Out of Time

Chris sat anxiously on a kitchen stool, watching his father read the letter he had had to bring home explaining he had been suspended. He drummed his fingers nervously on the kitchen counter, unaware that the fruit in the fruit-bowl beside him was bouncing up and down in time to the tapping of his fingers.

As he waited for his father to finish reading the letter that Wyatt had obviously gotten to first (if he hadn't known before-hand, the red and black pen marks showing through the paper would have been a dead giveaway), he thought about the girl, Eryn. The Whitelighter.

She seemed far too young to be a Whitelighter - she had looked to be about the same age as him - but the way she had dealt with the Seekers showed she'd been at it for a while. But that in and of itself raised some questions: was she actually a Whitelighter? Whitelighters were pacifists: they didn't actually engage in demonic/witch battles, except to help guide witches. Their only powers were orbing and biokinesis: the ability to heal. The obvious exception to this was, of course, Leo, who had for some reason developed the power to create Orb Bolts (which Chris had inherited from him) and Sterokinesis, the ability to throw lightning from his hands (which Chris had not).

She had orbed, though, he reasoned. That had to mean she was a Whitelighter. He knew that after Wyatt, and then he, himself, had been born, The Elders had put a ban on Witch/Whitelighter matches. Some weird bureaucratic shit about how risky it was and timelines getting screwed and stuff. He had never really got it. His parents and aunts, however, had got it, and had always been angry about it. He remembered when he was little, sitting beside Wyatt at the dinner table, listening to Leo and some Elder arguing about it in the foyer.

But the rest of the Elders had remained firm. Liaisons between witches and Whitelighters after February the 29th, 2004, had been strictly forbidden. So she had to be a Whitelighter. But if she was his age…

Chris was so deep in thought he didn't realize his Dad had stopped reading until Leo said, "Uh, Chris?" He jumped.

"Um, yeah?" he asked sheepishly. Leo pointed to his right, an amused expression on his face. Chris glanced to his left, and did a double-take. An apple, two oranges, and a banana were hovering half a foot above the fruit bowl, six kiwi fruits and a nectarine were levitating three inches above the bowl, and the rest of the fruit (three more bananas, two more nectarines, a grapefruit and seven passionfruits) were hovering unstably at various heights within the bowl. He glanced down at his left hand. He had been drumming his fingers, and the different levels of fruit were corresponding to the different positions his fingers.

He gave a disgusted sigh and flicked his hand impatiently at the fruit. They all fell into the fruit bowl with a little more force than Chris had intended, and he winced. "Sorry, Dad," he muttered, looking intently at a spot on the counter. Leo sighed.

"Wyatt's already had a crack at this, as you might've guessed," he began. Chris snorted. Leo's lips quirked, and he went on. "And he seems to have put everything together for me. I could've guessed what had happened, though, especially after that little display…" Leo nodded at the fruit bowl. He shot Chris a look. "I'm not going to contest the consequences. So that means you've got two weeks to try and get yourself under control. Okay?" Chris nodded, then glanced up at Leo.

"You're not angry?" he asked. Leo arched an eyebrow.

"Define angry." Then he gave a faint sigh. "No. I'm not. It wasn't your fault. You didn't even realize anything was wrong, and when you did, you left so you wouldn't hurt anyone. I'm proud of you." Chris gave him a wry grin. "However…what's this about fighting?" Chris growled something unintelligible under his breath. "What?" Chris sighed.

"It was one of those stupid jerk-jocks that used hang around Wyatt when he was still there. I passed them in the corridor as I was leaving school. They said something to piss me off, and I hadn't gotten complete control of my powers yet…anyway, I turned to one of them and slammed his head into a locker."

"Right. Um…right. I'm assuming you used TK to do that?"

"Mm-hmm," he replied, burying his head in hands.

"What exactly did he say?" Leo asked.

Chris swallowed. "Stuff…" he said slowly. Leo arched an eyebrow.

"About…?"

"Mom. Aunt Paige, and Aunt Phoebe. Y'know, just stuff. The usual. But I just…"

Leo swallowed hard. Chris had not dealt well with Piper's death. He'd gotten into fights before her death, but afterwards he had become more volatile, easier to provoke, and some of the tougher guys at his school had found that out, often to their detriment. Chris was strong enough without TK, but when he added that unconsciously to his swing, most guys flew across the corridor. The fact that Phoebe had decided to teach him martial arts had, instead of teaching him restraint, made him all the more dangerous.

"Alright. I'll tell those idiots at your school to get the facts straight before bothering me again. But you still get to stay off school for the fortnight. I don't want you running around getting double suspensions."

"Thanks Dad." Chris said, raising his head and giving his father a small smile. He fell silent for a moment, then asked, "How long is she gonna be staying, Dad?"

"Eryn?" At Chris' nod he raised his eyebrows slightly. "I don't know. Could be a while, Chris, or maybe not. It's hard to say." Chris nodded slowly, then looked at his father as the usual bells-and-heavenly-chorus sound chimed in his hearing. Leo closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them, he looked annoyed. "Damnit," he grumbled.

"Let me guess. You've gotta go Up There, don't you?" Chris asked, a faint note of bitterness in his voice. Leo heard it.

"They need to talk to me about something…something they seem to think is important. If I didn't have to go…"

"…you wouldn't, I know. I know." Chris said with a shrug. He blew out a breath and shot his dad a look. "Just seems like you're hardly ever here anymore."

Leo sighed. "I'm sorry about that. Things have been a bit hectic lately…"

"I've noticed."

"Look. Once I've talked to them, I'll be straight back here, okay?" Chris nodded and shot him a wry grin. Leo reached out and ruffled his hair.

"Ugh, Dad!" Chris complained, ducking away. Leo grinned.

"Come on, I want to say good-bye to Wyatt before I leave."

* * *

Eryn followed Wyatt through the house on what he had playfully called the "Fifty Bucks Special Tour". She'd actually studied the Manor at Magic School - along with the Charmed Ones and the name Halliwell - but when Leo had told her he lived at "the Manor", she hadn't connected the place she had been in awe of at School and the place she assumed her Whitelighter lived while on earth as being the one and the same. 

"It's a bit smaller than I expected, to tell you the truth," she said to Wyatt as he collapsed on the sofa in the attic, the tour complete. He shot her a grin.

"Yeah, I know. When you hear the name 'The Manor', you automatically assume five stories and white marble," he replied, his voice a drawl.

"That's not what I meant...wow, you can see to the Bridge," she murmured, admiring the view out of the small stained glass window behind the Book of Shadows. He frowned slightly.

"What did you mean?" he queried. She gave a faint shrug.

"I mean…I was expecting more rooms. I mean, three of the most powerful witches in the world lived here once, and they _never_ got around to putting in Nook Rooms?" Wyatt arched an eyebrow, and leant back, considering it for a minute, then shrugged.

"To tell you the truth, I guess Mom and Phoebe and Paige never got round to it. As you said, they were the most powerful witches in the world. There was always some demon or warlock or something trying to take them - and their families - out. They just…didn't have the time."

Eryn nodded. "I know the feeling," she said softly. Wyatt snorted.

"You're, what, seventeen? How could you possibly know what being out of time feels like?" he asked. She turned and gave him a crooked smile.

"You have no idea."

Wyatt leant forward slightly. "Try me," he said. She turned to look at him, studying him. For a moment, she looked like she was going to tell him, then she shook her head regretfully.

"Sorry. Maybe another time. If I get it."

Wyatt nodded. Sometimes, there were things that were better left unsaid until the time was right. Once you'd gone and said something, it's pretty hard to take back.

He leaned back and narrowed his eyes at her slightly. Should he ask, or should he not? He decided he would, but indirectly.

"How old are you?" he queried casually. Eryn looked at him, surprised and amused.

"How old do I look?" she asked in turn, a grin playing on her lips. Wyatt frowned thoughtfully.

"Well, you look to be about seventeen, but then, if you were, say, a Whitelighter, you could be much older."

"If I was a Whitelighter, I probably would be older than seventeen."

"So you're not?" Wyatt asked. She arched an eyebrow.

"Not what?"

"A Whitelighter."

"No," she said, laughing. Wyatt frowned.

"But…"

"But what?"

"You orbed," he told her. She cocked her head slightly.

"Yeah…"

"But you're not a Whitelighter?"

"No. Hell, no. And as for the orbing...so do you." Wyatt grinned at her and inclined his head.

"I see. Well, that makes things a little clearer."

"You're welcome," she replied as Leo and Chris orbed into the attic. Wyatt caught the expression on Chris' face and rolled his eyes. Leo gave him a half apologetic, half grim look

"Well, that was quick," Wyatt said shortly. "For how long?"

"I don't know: they didn't say," Leo replied, "but they did say it was urgent."

"Elders?" Eryn asked. Leo nodded. She snorted. "Have fun."

"Oh, I'm sure I will," he said sarcastically. He looked at the three of them in turn. "Are you lot going to be alright?" he asked, a hint of worry in his voice. Chris grinned.

"Dad, you worry too much," he said, speaking for the first time since Eryn had spoken to him downstairs. Leo narrowed his eyes at his younger son.

"And why do you think I do, huh? Didn't _someone _almost get their hand bitten off by a Seeker this morning?"

"Off?" Eryn asked, shocked. "Bitten…_Off_?"

"No…not really…" Chris responded, looking directly at her. He gave her a crooked grin. "It was just severely - "

"Mangled."

"Shut UP, Wyatt!" Chris yelled.

"We'll be fine, Dad," Wyatt said over the top of him. "In fact, I think we'll have a crack at that Stoli demon that Eryn told us about, and his Seekers, too." Leo nodded.

"Okay. But listen to Eryn on this one. She's been at this for a while. She knows what she's doing." Wyatt nodded.

"So do we, Dad," Chris reminded him. Leo shrugged.

"I know. But she knew about Stolis working in pairs. Even I didn't know that. Okay?"

Chris nodded slowly. "Okay."

_That's it_, he thought. _She's a Whitelighter._

Leo frowned as the jingling bells sounded again. "Ugh, I gotta go. Be safe, okay, and I'll see you when I get back." He sighed, then orbed out.

Eryn glanced at Chris and Wyatt. "So," she said, giving them both a wry smile, "who wants to bag a Stoli?"

* * *


	8. Tactics

"Let's go hunting," Chris said, a grim smile on his lips.

"I agree, but first we've gotta figure out tactics." Wyatt said. Chris rolled his eyes. "Hey, they're important," Wyatt said defensively. "If we don't have a plan of action, the Stoli could…"

"…surprise us all and leave us standing around like stunned mullets while he decimates us, I know, I know. So, what's the plan, cap'n?" Chris asked him. Wyatt shot him a dirty look.

"Well, genius, we could always go after the Seekers first. Get them to tell us where the Stoli's hiding out. Or…" Wyatt glanced at Eryn. "Didn't you say you saw the Stoli at Tartarus?"

She nodded. "Yeah, but he won't be there now. He would've left."

"How do you know?" Chris asked. Eryn noticed a faint note of coldness in his voice and sighed.

_Here we go again,_ she thought grimly. She had noticed how he disliked her when they had first met, but just before Leo had left, he had seemed to like her. Now it was back to disliking her again.

"Stoli Demons don't stay in one place for too long. It's just not in their nature to hang around," she answered. "And, if we're talking about tactics, I think we should get the Stoli first."

"How do we do that if we don't know where he is?" Chris asked sharply. "And why the Hell would we do that first, anyway? The Seekers are after us, not the Stoli."

Eryn shot him a dark look. "Who the hell do you think the Seekers are taking orders from: Santa? The Stoli is paying the Seekers to come after you two. Eliminate the Stoli, he can't pay the Seekers. The Seekers, seeing as they won't be getting paid, won't come after you anymore. Then, you can just summon them and pick them off at leisure, and they won't be after your asses at the same time. And as to the How…all you need is a summoning spell."

She walked over to the Book of Shadows. "May I?" She asked. Wyatt nodded, and she opened the book and began flipping through the heavy pages. Chris walked over behind her.

"What are you looking for?" he asked.

"Stoli summoning and vanquishing spells…I _assume_ you have them, seeing as you vanquished the last one," she replied coolly. Chris glared at her back.

"Yeah, towards the back," he answered, pissed off. Wyatt nudged Chris with TK, making him look up.

:_ Cut it out, Chris, _: Wyatt warned.

:_ Why? _: Chris replied mutinously. :_ It's not like she's any better. _:

: _She's just trying to help and you're biting her head off. What would you do if someone was constantly being an asshole to you? _:

:_ So you're siding with _her _now? _: Chris hissed back. :_ That's it, I'm outta here… _:

:_ Oh no you don't. You're not leaving the house. I don't want you drawing any Seekers to you without me around to help. _:

:_ So we're back to this again, huh? You don't think I can handle myself? _:

:_ Jesus Christ, Chris, you are such a stuck-up idiot sometimes, you know that? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I don't want to lose my brother simply because he got it into his head he was able to vanquish a Seeker without a potion, without a spell, and without being able to use magick? _: Wyatt slammed these thoughts into Chris' mind, hard, and Chris staggered slightly.

"Chris, go downstairs and get the ingredients for the vanquishing potion, now. We'll need it, the Stoli's upper-level." Wyatt said sharply, out loud. Before Chris could answer, he added, "And don't start. I know you remember them." Chris glared at him and orbed out. Wyatt sighed.

"Sorry about that," he said to Eryn. She glanced up.

"About what?" she asked, confused.

"Chris," he answered

"Oh." She sighed and glanced down at the book again, thumbing through the back pages. "That."

"Yeah, _that_. Listen…"

She cut him off. "Look, don't worry about it, okay? I'm probably not gonna be around for long, anyway, so it doesn't really matter. And, besides, I'm used to it." She blew out a breath. "When you are who I am, you kinda sorta have to be."

"Who are you?" he asked. She grinned at him.

"Hm. Nice try," she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. She looked back down at the book and stopped. "Oh, found it," she announced just as Chris orbed back in with the potion ingredients.

"Got them," he told Wyatt abruptly, setting them down on the table. Wyatt nodded.

"All right. Get started on making the potion." Chris frowned.

"Me? Why?"

"Because everyone knows I'm crap at making potions, that's why." Wyatt told him, adding in TP:_ What, you thought I was gonna pass you over for her? I don't even know if she knows how to make a decent herbal tea yet! _:

:_ Thanks, Wy, _: Chris TP'd to him before breaking off and getting started on the potion. Wyatt grinned. Chris was the best potion-maker the family had ever seen, including their aunt Paige and their mom, Piper. His mom and aunts had been delighted when they had discovered how good Chris was at making potions. Once Chris had made a potion once, he remembered it forever, which was a big help considering all the demons that came after them.

"We'll probably need a crystal cage for him, too," Eryn said thoughtfully, studying the entry in the Book of Shadows.

"Hmm?" Wyatt asked absently, looking at her.

"I said we'll probably need a crystal cage for him, too."

"How d'you figure?"

"Well, considering the size of him, I'd say he's collected a few powers along the way." Wyatt arched an eyebrow at her, and she sighed. "Look, it says right here, down the bottom: 'Stoli Demons collect the powers of demons and witches as they kill them. For each power collected, a Stoli grows approx. one inch above their usual height of approx. six feet, two inches.'" She looked up at Wyatt and Chris. "The Stoli I saw was gaining on six foot ten."

Chris glanced up from his potion. "So that means he's collected eight powers, right?" he asked. Eryn nodded.

"Or thereabouts."

"Shit," Chris remarked, going back to the potion.

"I'd say we'd need that crystal cage, too," Wyatt said, walking over and grabbing the box that held the quartz crystals before starting to lay the crystals out in a pentagram configuration.

"Might be wise," Chris said as he tossed in a handful of sage leaves. The potion in the cauldron gave a flash of light. He blew out a breath. "The mate of the Stoli was about five foot eleven, six foot. No-where near six foot two. What's with that?"

"Well, she probably didn't have as many powers as her mate, and she probably wasn't even fully-grown," Eryn explained. "It can take up to fifty years for a Stoli to attain its full height. Her mate's probably a hundred or so years old, and pretty smart, too."

"How's that?" Chris asked.

"Well, instead of taking you on personally, he's commissioning Seekers to come after you. He's testing the waters, seeing how powerful you guys are. When he's sure he knows your strategies, and how powerful you are, he's gonna come a-callin'."

"No he's not, " Wyatt said, standing up and stepping back to examine the cage parameters. He nodded in satisfaction. "We're going to call him, and then we'll vanquish him."

Eryn nodded and walked over to where Chris was working on the potion and picked up one of the ingredients. Chris shot her a look.

"What's wrong?" he asked defensively.

"Nothing, it's just…you just remembered all this off the top of your head?" she asked in return, indicating the multitude of bottles, jars, bags and containers. He nodded quickly.

"Yeah…" he said softly. His mom had said the same thing to him a few hours before she…He swallowed hard and examined the potion carefully, shutting himself off from her. There was no way he was going to remember that now, especially after being reminded by a Whitelighter. "You said the Stoli's picked up more powers?" he asked brusquely. He didn't see her shoot him a hurt look, but he heard the chill in her voice.

"Yeah. Why?" she asked abruptly.

"Then we're gonna need something a bit more powerful to take him out," he explained.

He orbed downstairs to the kitchen, away from her, and began searching through the cupboards for the Mandrake root and wraith essence. He found them easily enough - Paige, his youngest aunt, had gone through a phase before he was born and had alphabetised the kitchen cupboards, as well as putting the magic and normal-use herbs in different cupboards - but didn't go upstairs right away. He just couldn't do it.

Some of what she did…how she spoke…it just reminded him of what his Mom had been like. She had spoken with the same sarcastic edge to her voice as Eryn had, had always read the fine-print in the Book of Shadows, had always saved his and Wyatt's asses…

:_ Chri_s?" Wyatt called, both in TP and out loud. He glanced upwards.

"Coming!" he yelled. He orbed up to the attic. Eryn was standing at the Book of Shadows with Wyatt, reading over the vanquishing and summoning spells, he assumed. She glanced up as he set the extra ingredients down.

"Mandrake and Wraith Essence?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. "That's gonna pack one helluva kick."

"Exactly," he replied, tossing the Mandrake in, then adding three drops of wraith essence, very quickly. The potion imploded, and Chris waved the smoke away quickly. He grabbed a trio of vials, filled them with the deep blue potion, and tossed one each to Eryn and Wyatt.

"Aiight. Tactics decided upon?" he asked. Wyatt raised a fist threateningly, and he held up his hands. "Okay, okay, fine, no more cheap digs…" He blew out a breath. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

* * *


	9. Screwing Up

"We summon now a demon near  
We call him now, we call him here  
Stoli demon, do not hide  
Come here now into the light."

Chris, Eryn and Wyatt stood in front of the Book of Shadows, reciting the spell to summon the Stoli. As they completed the spell, the demon appeared in a swirl of light. He looked around confused, then gave a low, rattling hiss as he saw Chris and Wyatt. Wyatt flicked his hand at one of the crystals he had laid out a little out of alignment, and they formed a perfect pentagram.

The Stoli, not noticing the little movement, gave another hiss and began to step towards them. As he reached the boundaries of the cage, the crystals resonated and a translucent wall of energy formed in front of him. He growled and slammed one heavy fist against the wall, and a wave of energy passed up his arm, making him cry out in pain. He glared angrily at them.

"You're gonna wish you'd never been born, witches," he snarled, scowling at them each in turn. "_You _two," he added, his gaze fixed on Chris and Wyatt, "You vanquished my mate. You're gonna die. I'm gonna kill you." Eryn swallowed.

"Okay. Let's just say the spell, throw the potion, and get rid of him."

Chris and Wyatt both nodded, and they again began to recite from the Book. The Stoli started to pound frantically on the walls of the cage.

"By Earth and Water and Fire and Air

We vanquish you, right now, right here…"

As they spoke, the Stoli felt something beneath his foot. Glancing down, he saw the end of a rug lying within the confines of the cage. Bending down, he seized the end of the rug and flicked, hard, sending the crystals flying and breaking the cage just as his enemies started on the third line of the spell.

"Let you now forever be…"

The Stoli gave a roar of triumph and shimmered out of the attic, only to shimmer back in behind the three kids.

"Oh, shit," Wyatt remarked a second before the Stoli swung one of his huge arms at their backs, sending the three of them flying. They hit the wall, hard, and slid down to the ground.

"Ow…" Chris groaned, sitting up. He stared at the giant Stoli, who was stalking towards them with the grace one would expect of a much smaller, lither demon. "Oh, not good," he said, beginning to orb out. The Stoli lunged forward and grabbed at him through his orbs, stopping him from orbing. He dragged Chris to his feet and tightened his grip on his throat, choking him.

"Where are you goin'?" The Stoli asked with a grim smile on its face. "We've only just started!" And with that he spun and tossed Chris back across the attic. Chris hit the floor and skidded along for another three feet before stopping. He closed his eyes. This was just about too much pain to be worth it. He raised his head as the Stoli started towards him again and concentrated, hard. At first nothing seemed to be happening, then the Stoli's movement began to slow. Chris took a deep breath in and the Stoli began to look like he was battling a strong wind that was coming from where Chris was, on the ground. Chris began to get to his feet, careful not to take his eyes off the Stoli.

Chris had discovered earlier that year that he didn't just have to use his hands to channel his TK. He could use his eyes, as well, just as his aunt, Prue, had been able to. The upside was he could still use his TK if he had a broken arm. The downside was it was a draining experience. His dad had promised him it would get easier to control, but in the meantime, Chris had to be careful when and where he used it.

The Stoli glared at him, it's scarlet, slit-pupiled eyes stabbing into him. It swiped at him with it's ham-sized hand, but the blow was slow, almost leisurely, and as he was over two metres away, not able to do much harm anyway. He gave Chris an unpleasant grin.

"Fine, witch, we'll have it your way," he rumbled, his voice harsh and low. He cocked his head slightly and continued. "You may have slowed me down, but you haven't stopped me." And with that he held out his left hand and slowly began to conjure a massive fireball. Chris swallowed hard, then held out his right hand so that he could just make it out in his peripheral vision. Slowly, very slowly, a trickle of orbs formed in his hand. For almost a minute, the two stood completely still, each forming their weapon of choice.

"You really think a handful of orbs is gonna stop me, witch-boy?" The Stoli snarled, it's face contorting as it tried again to wrest itself free of the invisible force that held it fast.

Sweat began to stand out on Chris' forehead. Keeping a Higher Upper-level demon in check with an unformed evolution of a power was hard enough - to say the least - but adding in the extra duress of conjuring up an orb bolt at the same time was _almost_ more than he could stand. Especially with the concussion he suspected he had from hitting two extremely solid objects in quick succession.

A furious growl from the Stoli jerked Chris back to reality. He glanced down at the Stoli's hand, then at his own. The fireball the Stoli was conjuring was nearly complete, as was his orb bolt. Just a few more seconds…

A faint golden glow shimmered through the orb bolt: it was ready. Chris sighed with relief and threw it at the Stoli, just as he lost control of its movement. With a roar, the Stoli threw his fire ball, not realizing that the "handful of orbs" speeding his way could do a _little _more damage than he gave it credit for. The orb bolt smashed into him, and he screamed in agony as it seared into his ribs, burning away flesh and bone.

Chris dodged the fireball, his ultra-quick reflexes, born of years of demon-fighting, coming into play. He stopped beside the potions table, his hands coming up in a defensive guard. The Stoli whimpered and held its left side…what was left of its left side, that is. Chris winced slightly and turned his head away, not eager to see the charred bone and charcoal organs, nor the congealed blood matting the demon's clothes. The Stoli stared at him.

"If I die, you're at least goin' with me," it whispered, shimmering out. Chris had no time to react whatsoever as it shimmered in behind him, grabbed him round the waist and threw him bodily into the pedestal that supported the Book of Shadows, sending it crashing to the ground.

_This is way too much pain to be worth it,_ was Chris' last coherent thought before a darkness stole over his vision.

----

"You'll pay, witch," The Stoli muttered, stumbling slowly over to where the younger Halliwell lay. "You'll pay for my mate, and you'll pay for me…" He stopped as he saw a burn mark on the floor. "All burnt, like me," he remarked. Then, from behind him, he heard a mild voice say in a too-calm tone, "Oh, crap."

He turned to see the red-headed female pulling herself into a sitting position. A small tear was showing in her T-shirt, and she was covered in dust, but apart from that she was fine. He glanced at Chris, lying on the floor, then looked towards the girl.

_If I take Chris out first, she will still be standing around to vanquish me,_ he thought grimly, watching as she shook her head slightly, as if to clear it. _But_ _if I take her out, I'll have three comatose witches to kill at my leisure. And to take powers from._

At this thought, he gave a smile that looked a lot like a grimace and started towards the girl.

----

"Um, ow," Eryn muttered. She got to her feet slowly and surely. "Y'know, you should really be picking on people your own size. You _do_ know that, right?" she asked the Stoli, calmly brushing the dust from the floor - and walls, _and_ ceiling - off her jeans. She glanced up at the demon and did a double-take. "Bloody hell, what happened to you?"

"You're little friend over there decided to throw some orbs at me. They packed a bigger punch than I realized," he responded, gravel-rough voice even harder to understand due to the pain.

Eryn snorted. "_Orbs_? You expect me to believe that a bunch of _orbs _did _that_ to you?" He snarled at her, and she made a whip-cracking motion with her hand. "Whoa, down boy." She glanced over at Chris, who was lying motionless next to the Book of Shadows. From what she could see, a bruise was starting to come up around his neck, and there were cuts and scrapes all over his arms. "Geez, what did you do to him?" The Stoli smiled, his sharp teeth glinting in the light.

"I just threw him around a little," he said innocently, or as innocently as a six foot ten, black-skinned, _no_-skinned on the left side, _demon_ with giant brown horns issuing from the top of his head, inch-long, razor-sharp, yellowed teeth glistening in his mouth, and a dirty great stinking - _literally_ - hole in his left side…can.

"Oh, joy," Eryn murmured, wincing.

"And you're next, bitch," he replied with a nasty grin, moving towards her. She sighed.

"Y'know, I'm really starting to get tired of people calling me _bitch..._" she said matter-of-factly, slowly backing away from Wyatt. The Stoli followed her. "...even though I am one." He gave a gravelly laugh.

"Well, well, well. Someone's honest. I like that in a witch…before I kill them," the Stoli informed her. She gave a small, irony-filled laugh. He narrowed his eyes at her. "What's so funny?" he asked cautiously.

"_'What's so funny?'_" Eryn repeated, sounding amused. But when she answered, her voice was deadly serious. "You just made the biggest mistake of your entire life. Because I'm not _exactly_ your average witch."

The next second, the Stoli was staggering backwards, an invisible force making him stumble. Fire exploded at his wrists, twining around them and forcing his hands to behind his back, where the two loops of fire merged and became a single loop of shimmering dark-blue fire. Eryn glanced at the carpet he had used to free himself the first time, and it rolled itself up. The crystals, which had been flung to the far sides of the room, flew back into the pentagram configuration it had been in. Instantly, the crystals resonated and the Stoli was trapped.

Eryn nodded to herself in quiet satisfaction, then ran around the Stoli to Wyatt. She knelt down beside him, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him hard.

"Ah, crap…yeah, yeah, I'm awake," he groaned, and Eryn hit him.

"Ugh, how long have you been awake?" she asked furiously. Wyatt winced and rubbed his shoulder. He stood up.

"Relax, relax, I only just woke up…jesus, how the hell'd you do that?" he queried, gesturing at the Stoli.

"Doesn't matter, listen, you've gotta wake up Chris…"

"Don't bother, I'm up," Chris interrupted, slowly getting to his feet and stretching carefully. He eyed the Stoli cautiously. "Um, he isn't breaking out of there anytime soon, is he?"

"No, but we'd better vanquish him quickly, anyway," Eryn said grimly, walking over to him, and the Book of Shadows. Chris glared at the Stoli, then at Eryn, who had picked up the Book and was flicking through the pages, looking again for the page on Stoli Demons. "Okay, this is it," she said, glancing up at them. "Hurry!" Chris shot Wyatt a look, trying to channel his hatred - was it hatred? - of this Know-it-All Whitelighter to his brother, but Wyatt walked over to Eryn and stood beside her, and Chris, seething, followed suit.

"By Earth and Water and Fire and Air  
We vanquish you, right now, right here.  
Let you now forever be  
A figment of our memory."

They chanted the spell in unison, ignoring the Stoli's sudden fear- and rage-filled howl. When they finished the last line of the spell, they threw their respective vials at the Stoli. A scream of agony pierced their hearing, making them all wince, then there was a minor explosion. When the smoke cleared, there was a large burn mark in the centre of the slightly sooty inner crystals of the cage.

----

"Well…" Eryn said slowly, staring at the mark on the floor. "He was a bit of a handful."

"Understatement of the century," Chris snapped.

Maybe it was the fact that he'd nearly gotten killed, or the fact that she'd just said something his Mom had said on numerous occasions about similar demons, or the fact that a Whitelighter was trying to take his dad's place _again_…what ever it was, Chris decided to snap. Eryn turned on him, a pissed off look on her face.

"Okay. All right. I'll bite. What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" he asked grimly.

"You know damn well what I mean. I mean 'Why the hell are you treating me like I'm lower than a slug?'. I mean 'Why the hell are you pissed off at me?'. I mean, 'What the hell did I ever do to you, other than save your pathetic ass back there? Not only once, but twice!' That's what I mean!"

Wyatt stepped in between the two. "Look, Chris, Eryn, I think the two of you had better…"

"Shut up, Wyatt." Both seventeen-year-olds said grimly. He glanced at both of their furious faces, winced, and slowly backed away. Eryn took a step towards Chris.

"What the Hell is your problem, Chris?" she asked, her storm-grey eyes flashing dangerously.

"My problem is with you," he answered, his voice rising in volume slightly as he continued. "You think you can just waltz in here and be our Whitelighter? You don't know us, you don't know anything about us…" Eryn interrupted him

"Whoa. Time out. You think I'm here to be your Whitelighter?" She gave a low, harsh laugh of disbelief before going on. "Chris, if I were here to be _your_ Whitelighter, I would have handed in my resignation and orbed my ass out of here by now. But no. I'm _not_ here to be your Whitelighter.

"I'm here because your Dad, Leo - _my_ Whitelighter - seems to think that you and Wyatt have got enough Witchy power up your sleeves to ensure the demonic clan that just _happens_ to be on my ass does _not_ get their hands on me. Know why? Because I am the last, single, solitary thing standing in their way…Before what? Before world-freaking-domination, that's what!

"Now, I'm sorry we don't get along, and I'm sorry you think that I'm a pompous bitch, but I am really, _really_ stressed right now.

"I don't know how long I have to live…in fact, I don't think I'm even gonna live long enough to see my eighteenth birthday." Eryn sighed.

"I'll go. Seeing as you obviously don't want me here, I'll go. Setting up the world for one Hell of a fall, but, hey, that's okay, I'm gonna be dead before _that_ happens." Eryn didn't even give him a chance to answer as she orbed out.

Chris stared at the spot she had been, eyes wide in shock. Wyatt walked over and put an arm around his younger brother's shoulders.

"Chris. Little bro. I think…I'm not sure, but I _really_ think…that you _may_ have just screwed up. Big. And I _really_ mean _screwed up_."

* * *


	10. Hating Me for Me

Eryn orbed in on the top of the Golden Gate Bridge. She was shaking she was so angry, and she yelled at the top of her lungs "Leo!" She stalked along the girder, kicking angrily at the shallow hemisphere bolt-heads lining the edges. After a couple minutes pacing, she stopped in the middle of the beam and yelled again, "Leo!"

The familiar sound of orbs gathering and the sight of pale blue and white orbs tinged with gold collecting in front of her filled her with relief and she could feel herself calming down.

A little.

"I can't do this. I can _not_ do this, Leo," she began, barely waiting for him to fully form.

"Eryn, what are you doing here? It's not safe," he said, his voice worried. Eryn just rolled her eyes.

"Safe, not safe, does it really matter? You and I both know that Ardariaen is close to finding me, so why should I bother to…"

"Because he does not know where you are! As long as you are in the Manor, with Chris and Wyatt, with their and the Nexus' magical power masking yours, he will keep missing you!"

"So take me somewhere else with lots of magick," she snapped, turning and walking along the steel girder. "You could take me to Magic School, or Faery, or…" she winced, then continued on,"…or even the Heavens." Leo stared at her in amazement.

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" she asked, cocking her head slightly, and for a second he was reminded heart-wrenchingly of Piper.

"Um, no. No, you didn't, it's just…you hate the Heavens."

"Uh, no, I don't…_hate_ it exactly, it just gives me a migraine like you would not believe. All that good energy…" She shook her head. "But that's not the point. I'm desperate here. I'll go anywhere! Believe me, anything will surpass where I've just come from."

Leo frowned slightly. He had a sneaky suspicion he knew where this was going, but…

"Where exactly did you just come from?" he asked gingerly. Eryn gave him an odd look.

"The Manor," she replied simply. Leo sighed.

"All right. What the Hell is going on?"

"Oooh, are Elders allowed to swear?" she responded lightly, sidestepping the question. Leo frowned.

"I am. What the Hell is going on?"

Eryn held his gaze for a moment, then looked away with a sigh. "It's just…"

Leo arched his eyebrows. "It's just…what?" She sighed again.

"Has the term idiotic, self-centred little prick ever occurred to you in describing Chris?" she asked, facing him grimly. Now it was Leo's turn to sigh.

"Has he been giving you a hard time?" he asked. Eryn glared at him.

"Hard time does not even begin to cover what he has been giving me."

Leo swallowed. "Look, I know that he can be a little…well, a little hard to get along with…"

"Leo, he is going out of his way to make me leave! He hates me! Look, I just think it would be better if I went somewhere…else. Anywhere else." Eryn's voice cracked slightly and she turned away, her fists clenching.

"What's wrong?" Leo asked, his voice full of concern. Eryn took a deep breath in.

"Leo, he doesn't even know who I am. He doesn't even know _what_ I am. And still, he hates me.

"He's like a stick of Acme dynamite. I unwittingly light the fuse, and then a moment later he blows up in my face, leaving me completely stunned and wondering what the Hell I did wrong…"

Leo sighed. Again.

"Knowing Chris, you probably haven't done anything wrong. You've just gone and reminded him of something he'd rather just…forget." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Look, Eryn, Chris doesn't hate you. In fact the only thing I think he hates is broccoli, jocks and Demons…"

"Point. Exactly," Eryn said softly. She shrugged out of his hold. "He's hating me for me, and he doesn't even know who I am."

Leo took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. This had been a very, very long day. The other Elders were again questioning him about his faith in Eryn: how could someone so hugely connected to evil remain good? How did he know that she might not give in and…No. It wasn't possible. It didn't even bear thinking about.

"Look. Let's just go back to the Manor, and I'll smooth things over with Chris." He held up a hand as she began to speak. "Just give him another chance, okay? I can't take you anywhere just now, and I think you should just stick it out at home. Chris, Wyatt, and the Nexus can block you far better than another realm could."

"If you say so," Eryn muttered.

"I do."

"Now why don't I believe you?" she grumbled, kicking at one of the bolt-heads on the girder. He shrugged.

"I have no idea."

Eryn glared at him. "Sometimes I wonder why I let you live," she informed him. Leo frowned at her and made a frantic 'shut up, now!' motion with his hands. She arched an eyebrow at him.

"_They're listening!"_ he mouthed at her, pointing upwards. She rolled her eyes, then conjured up an energy ball in her left hand. She stared at it intently for a few moments, then the energy ball disappeared. Leo looked at her in askance, but she shot him a grim smile and looked upwards. After a few seconds, the voices of the Elders exploded in Leo's mind.

"_She has gone too far, Leo..._" "_We cannot stand for this, Leo…_" "_Leo, control your charge!_" were just some of the…statements…made by the furious Whitelighters currently in the Heavens.

"What the hell did you just do?" he asked Eryn angrily. His charge gave an innocent shrug. "Eryn…" he said warningly. She sighed.

"I just teleported an energy ball into the Heavens. They should know that listening in on private conversations is wrong." She explained this to him as if it was a perfectly sane and natural thing to do to heavenly eavesdroppers. Leo gave an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, come on, it's not like it hurt anyone!" she exclaimed in an aggravated tone. "It was only a little one! Not even very powerful! I made sure of it! It just…bounced around a bit and singed a few beards and heads, that's all, I swear!"

"You can't keep doing this, Eryn…" he said softly. He knew what was at stake, even if she didn't. She shot him an annoyed look.

"Okay, fine. I'll try," she said sulkily. Leo narrowed his eyes at her. She shrugged. "I'm not gonna make a promise I know I'm gonna break, Leo, so don't expect any from me."

"Okay. Fine. That's gonna have to do for now," he muttered. "Look, we'd better get going. Ardariaen has had more than enough time to get a bead on you…"

Eryn nodded. "You're right," she said sheepishly. "I should know better than this, I've been at this for eleven years, for chrissakes." Then she frowned. "Oh, yeah, and another thing," she added, an ironic look on her face, "If I were you I'd find out what Chris' problem is with Whitelighters."

"Chris' problem with…oh, no, not again!" Leo, exclaimed, annoyed. "I thought he and Wyatt had grown out of that!"

"Well, I think Wyatt has, but Chris certainly hasn't, whatever _that_ is," she informed him. His frown deepened.

"Come on," Leo growled, furious.

_I do not envy Chris right now_, Eryn thought almost sympathetically as the two of them orbed out.

* * *


	11. About Eryn

Eryn and Leo orbed into the attic of the Manor. Downstairs, they could hear someone - Wyatt - yelling something at someone else: Chris. Leo looked at Eryn.

"Stay here, okay? I'll go talk to them. And especially Chris," he told her. Eryn nodded.

"You do that," she told him, sitting down on the sofa. Leo orbed downstairs. Eryn drummed her fingers nervously on the arm-rest. She felt a faint shiver running down her back, and she glanced around. She sighed and went back to tapping her fingers, not noticing a faint, black shimmer hovering in the far corner of the ceiling.

The black shimmer gave a nasty little giggle and flickered out.

----

Leo orbed in just in time to have to duck as a vase hurtled through the air towards him. He flicked his fingers at it and it and it orbed out before orbing back in, safely, on the coffee table.

"What the Hell is going on?" he roared, furious. Wyatt stormed into the living room.

"Dad, Chris got rid of your charge!" he said sharply, dark eyes flashing angrily.

"How the Hell was I supposed to know she was his charge!" Chris yelled, running in after him. "She acted like a Whitelighter!"

Leo narrowed his eyes at Chris. "And what does that have to do with anything, Chris?" he asked, his voice dangerous. Chris swallowed hard.

"Nothing…" he said slowly, but he knew his Dad knew what he meant. Leo gave him a disgusted look and turned to Wyatt.

"Eryn's fine: she's upstairs. Go up there and stay with her. _Don't let her out of your sight_. I need to talk to Chris." Wyatt started to speak, but Leo interrupted him. "_Alone_." Wyatt nodded slowly, shot Chris a mildly sympathetic look, and orbed out, his orbs travelling up through the ceiling.

Leo turned to Chris. "What possessed you?" he asked, his voice low. Chris didn't answer. "Chris…"

"I thought she was a Whitelighter, okay?" Chris snapped suddenly, angrily. Leo glared at him.

"Just because someone is a Whitelighter doesn't give you permission to run them out of the house!"

"I thought she was here to _replace_ you…"

"And since when have I brought my so-called replacements around to the house myself, huh?"

"I don't know…"

"Try never."

Chris took a deep breath in. "I'm sorry, okay?" he asked in a pained voice. "I didn't know she wasn't a Whitelighter. If I had…"

"You would've treated her differently?" Leo asked, interrupting him, his voice skeptical. Chris' temper flared.

"Yeah, I would have!" he snapped. He was angry. Really angry. He'd seen his Dad a grand total of three times in the last month due to the meddling of his father's fellow Elders, and he'd had enough.

"Seeing as how you're not me, you wouldn't know what it's like to be able to count on one hand the number of times you've seen your own _father_ in the past month. If you were me, you would've done the same thing, because _I_ thought I was going to lose another parent! I get that Eryn isn't a Whitelighter, and I'm sorry I treated her like I did, but if she was a Whitelighter, I would've done the same again." He paused and looked Leo straight in the eye. "So help me god, Dad, if they try and make you leave again, I'll kill 'em."

Leo stared at him, and for a second Chris thought he was gonna get a smack over the back of the head. Leo, although an Elder, had no problems whatsoever with disciplining his kids. Then he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, Chris," he said softly. He sighed again and went on. "I made myself a promise when you were born that I wasn't gonna stay away from you and Wyatt. When I first got made an Elder, your mom had to deal with raising Wyatt alone for a few months, and I swore I wouldn't make her have to do that again. I swore I wouldn't take my sons father away just because I was an Elder." He gave Chris a sad smile. "Guess I screwed up there, huh?"

Chris shook his head. "Dad, it's alright…" He began, but Leo held up a hand.

"It isn't alright, Chris, and you know it." Leo said firmly. " And I'm sorry about this," he added, "About everything. Not being there, and for all the Whitelighters trying to replace me." Chris nodded slowly.

"I know. It's just…I want to have a Dad, y'know?"

"Yeah, and you've got me." Leo told him. Chris gave him a lop-sided smile. Leo grinned back, then said seriously, "I have to go back Up There for a while Chris." Chris sighed and turned away, walking over and sitting down on the sofa.

"Why?" He asked. Leo walked over and sat down beside him.

"I was half-way through an argument with the other Elders when Eryn started yelling at me. I was telling them to butt out and let me have a life with my family. To let me handle my charges the way I see fit. To still act as an Elder, but do it from Earth, as opposed to the Heavens. And they were finally saying yes. Finally agreeing. Then Eryn started calling for me…"

"I hate her," Chris said flatly, looking at him. Leo arched an eyebrow.

"Why exactly do you hate her?" He asked. Chris shrugged.

"Well…she acts like a Whitelighter…" Leo grinned.

"Yeah, I bet she does.…"

Chris gave him a questioning look.

"Eryn spent three years of her life growing up at Magic School," Leo explained. "The teachers at Magic School are, for the most part, Whitelighters. Stands to reason she'd act like them a little. Plus, she's actually part Whitelighter, so she does have some Whitelighter tendencies, like orbing, and being a pacifist…" Leo snorted and rolled his eyes. "…even if she doesn't show it all the time…" Chris narrowed his eyes at him, and he relented. "Okay, so she _never_ displays pacifist tendencies…but, actually, in all seriousness, she's a lot like you, Chris."

Chris arched an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah? How so?" he asked sceptically.

Leo took a deep breath. "She's intelligent, mature, funny, insane, sarcastic, strong…She likes those late nineties, early zeroes bands you like…y'know, Good Charlotte and Linkin Park…she's part witch, part Whitelighter…she goes to a normal school because her mom, who was killed by a demon called Ardariaen, wanted her to…she's hunted by demons: the same one that killed her mom, in fact…she has me as a Whitelighter…she loathes Elders, hates demons…" He shot Chris a look. "Does any of this sound familiar? Do I really need to keep going?"

Chris sighed. "It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Has the term idiotic, self-centred bitch ever occurred to you in describing Eryn?" Chris asked him grimly. Leo stared at him for a second, then laughed. "What's so funny?" Chris asked him, hurt. Leo shook his head.

"Nothing, except that Eryn asked me almost exactly the same thing about you a few minutes ago," Leo told him, amused.

"_What?_" Chris asked, his voice rising in pitch as he jumped up from the sofa. Leo stood up and held up a hand.

"Chris, listen to me. _Give her a break_. She's been hunted for almost eleven years by a demonic clan that is notorious for its savagery, its ability to avoid vanquishing, and the fact that if they want someone dead, that someone is usually dead in three days, maximum. The fact that she's eluded them for eleven years makes her exceptional as a person, but it hasn't been easy for her.

"So take it easy on her. Try and make a truce with her. Believe me, she's probably wanting to do so with you."

Chris stared at Leo for a second, then sighed and nodded. "Okay. Fine. I'll try and make peace."

Leo nodded. "That's all I ask." He clapped Chris on the shoulder, then glanced upwards. "Let's go tell Wyatt I have to leave. Again." Chris smirked.

"He's gonna explode."

----

Wyatt orbed into the attic to find Eryn sitting on the sofa, biting her fingernails.

"Y'know, you really shouldn't do that," he told her. She glanced up at him, then bit the air in front of her. Wyatt could hear the dull _click_ her teeth made as they came together, and he winced. "I would _not_ wanna get on the wrong side of you," he said, walking over and sitting down on the opposite end of the sofa. She shrugged.

"Try telling that to the demon I have on my ass."

"Must be a pretty small demon, to fit on your ass," he replied with a smirk, and she laughed.

"Ardariaen is not a small demon," she told him, her smile fading slightly as she spoke. "He's the most powerful demon in the Underworld at the moment, and his clan is the most powerful clan of all time."

"Ardariaen…" Wyatt murmured, thinking. "Can't say as I've ever heard of him." Eryn smirked.

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't've. He's kept a pretty low profile for the last eleven years." She scowled. "But he's been very, very busy whilst keeping that low profile. He's been very quietly amassing powers and minions, so he can take over the Underworld, and then the Above-lands."

"Above-lands?" Wyatt asked with a frown. Eryn shot him a puzzled look.

"Um, yeah…it's what the demons call up here, and the Heavens. Because they're _above_ the Underworld."

Wyatt nodded slowly. He looked at Eryn, studying her. She arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

"I'm just trying to figure out why anyone would want to kill you," he explained. She laughed.

"Well, I could probably give you a whole list of people who would want to kill me, and their motives. Including your brother, I might add," she told him. Wyatt winced.

"Look, I'm really sorry about him. He's just an id…"

Eryn sighed. "Look, Wyatt, it doesn't matter, okay?"

"No, it does, I mean, he's a little…"

Eryn shook her head firmly. "No, Wyatt, I'm serious. It _doesn't matter_. Like I said before, I'm probably not going to be around for long, anyway, and…"

"You were being literal, weren't you?" Wyatt said, interrupting her. "You told me you wouldn't be around for long, before…I thought you meant you wouldn't be _here_, at the Manor for long, but you actually meant _alive_ for long…" She shrugged.

"Well, yeah," she said casually. "Considering the demon I've got after me - and what type he is, and the minions he's collected - I'd say it's pretty feasible I'll be dead in less than two days."

"You seem pretty calm about it."

"Well, the alternative is to turn into a hysterical, screaming, crying, powerless wreck. Considering, I think I picked the better option, don't you?"

* * *


	12. Animosity

Leo and Chris orbed into the attic. Wyatt glanced at Leo.

"What's up?" he queried, Leo winced slightly.

"Um, well, the good news is that _this_..." He glanced at Chris. "...has been settled. But, the bad news is…" he trailed off and gave Wyatt an apologetic look. Wyatt gave a disgusted sigh.

"Again?" he asked angrily. "What the Hell do they _want_?"

"I was half-way through talks with them when I got called away," Leo explained. Eryn winced.

"Sorry," she said. "It was me. I had to talk to him."

Chris took a deep breath. It was all well and good for his Dad to tell him to go easy on her, but she may have just caused Leo to lose his case - what ever it was - with the Elders. Elders weren't exactly known for their patience, and the interruption of Leo's argument may just have been enough for them to dismiss him for wahtever it was. Eryn looked at him, then gave an impatient sigh and stood up.

"Yes, I admit it, I screwed up," she snapped, scowling at him. "I've screwed him, you, Wyatt, and probably the whole world over. Happy?"

Chris stared at her, shocked. "I…" he began. He was lost for words. He hadn't thought she would blow up like this.

Eryn went on. "You don't like me? That's great, I don't like you either. We're square. We're even. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Chris glared at her. "You're really starting to get on my nerves, you know that?" he told her. She gave a harsh laugh.

"Only starting to? Wow, I must be losing my touch: usually I can make people hate me _long_ before now. By now they're usually trying to blow me up."

"I never said I didn't hate you, I just said you were _starting_ to get on my nerves," he snapped back.

Eryn walked over until she was two feet away from him. "Poor diddums," she said, a touch of mocking in her voice. Chris' hands clenched into fists. Eryn glanced down at them, then back up at his face.

"You may be two inches taller than me, but I betcha anything I can pack a better punch," she told him, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. For a second the two furious teens stared at each other, then Chris felt his body become super-light as it was transformed into orbs. A second later, he reformed about two metres away.

Four metres away from him, Eryn also reformed. She stared at him, looking a little shocked, then understanding flickered in her eyes and she turned to Leo, an annoyed look on her face.

"Goddamnit, Leo…" she started, but he held up a hand.

"No. The two of you are not gonna fight, no matter how satisfying it might be for you to pound my son into a pulp. And Chris, she could do it," he added as Chris opened his mouth to protest.

"What, are you nuts, Leo?" Eryn asked him. Leo shook his head.

"No, yes, yes, and no."

Eryn glared at him. "Could you wait until I actually _ask_ the questions before answering?" she demanded

"What would be the fun in that?" Leo asked her. She glared at him.

"No fun. _No_ fun. Point! Exactly! Yes! Thank you!" she yelled, exasperated.

Leo smirked at her. "Annoyed?"

"_Yes_!"

"Great. Now shut up. I need to talk to you and Chris."

"Not Wyatt?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Wyatt isn't the reason I'm here right now."

Eryn nodded. "I concede," she said, her voice rueful.

"Good. Now. I know the two of you…" he looked between Chris and Eryn, "…haven't really gotten along, and that is partly my fault. I didn't explain who Eryn was or what she was doing here. But now you know. She's here because she needs to be protected…"

"Protected? I don't think so! I can take care of myself, Leo, and you bloody-well know it." Eryn snapped, annoyed.

"Fine, you're here because your magic needs shielding from Ardariaen, _happy_?" Leo snapped back, looking pissed. Eryn thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "I can go on now?" Leo demanded. She nodded again. "Thank-you."

"Eryn needs a place to stay -_ safely_ - where she can figure out where she can go. She's not staying here for long. However…

"I want the three of you to _stay here_. No leaving under any circumstances, unless a certain demon…" He nodded at Eryn, "…comes calling. Otherwise, I don't care who calls and asks for help, or tells you that you have to leave the house, _don't._"

"Question," Eryn said, raising her hand. Leo arched an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Can I kill him?" she asked hopefully, nodding at Chris and cracking her knuckles. Leo shook his head.

"No," he replied calmly, as if his charges always asked to kill one of his sons.

"Can I maim him?"

"No."

"Dismember him?"

"No."

"Disembowel?"

"No."

"Behead?"

"No."

She sighed. "Jesus, Leo, you're taking all the fun out of this."

"He's my son, Eryn. You hurt him, you'll answer to me."

Eryn snorted. "And god knows I don't wanna do that, considering you're Mr I-can-shoot-lightning-from-my-hands-and-freaking-_fry_-people."

Leo shot her a look. "Just be _good_, okay? I don't care what you do but just…be _good_. Please?"

Eryn sighed and gave him a wry grin. "Always," she said softly with a faint nod. Leo looked at Chris.

"That goes for you, too," he told him grimly. "If Wyatt has to call me because you two are at each others throats, there _will_ be Hell to pay."

"Fine." Chris said, his voice low. Leo looked at Eryn, who held up her hands.

"He won't get a peep outta me," she said seriously. Leo nodded.

"Dad, what if my charge calls?" Wyatt asked. Leo frowned slightly.

"Like I said, I don't want you leaving the Manor, but..." He slowly blew out a breath. "I'll talk to the Elders, ask them to assign her another Whitelighter, just for the next couple of days."

Wyatt nodded. "Okay." Leo shot him a grin, then looked at the each of them in turn.

"You're all okay?" He asked seriously. They all nodded slowly, and he smiled wryly. "Close enough." He took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm outta here." He gave them a small wave and orbed out.

* * *


	13. Brownie Points, Sleep & Thumbprints

Chris, Eryn and Wyatt looked at each other. Chris and Eryn opened their mouths to speak…

"Not. A. Word. Not a single sound from either of you," Wyatt told them, glancing back and forth between the two. Both of them closed their mouths. Wyatt sighed and closed his eyes. "Good. Serenity reigns for another sixty seconds." He opened his eyes and focused on Eryn.

"Eryn, I showed you the spare room on the second floor, right?" he asked her. She nodded. "Okay, go grab your stuff from the living room, that's where you're staying for tonight." She nodded again and orbed out.

Wyatt waited a beat then glanced at Chris. "She isn't that bad, y'know, bro," he told him. Chris snorted.

"Yeah, y'know, Dad said the same thing, and I almost believed him until she opened her mouth just then," he replied. Wyatt frowned.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she has more important things to think about right now than make friends with someone when she probably isn't going to be alive in a couple of days?" he demanded, slightly angry with his younger brother. "Or that maybe that's her way of defending herself against verbal attack? You have _not_ been the best host in the world today, y'know."

Chris sighed and walked over to sit on the sofa. "I know…it's just…she bugs me!"

"Ever occur to you that you may just bug her as badly as she does you?" Wyatt asked.

Chris frowned, then sighed. "I guess…"

"You guess?" Wyatt scoffed. "Geez, Chris, I never knew you had such a high opinion of yourself. You're starting to sound like an Elder."

Chris froze, then slowly got to his feet.

"_What_ did you say?" Chris asked, his eyes flashing angrily as he took a step towards his brother.

"You heard me," Wyatt said coolly

"Don't you _dare_ compare me to them!" Chris spat, furious.

Wyatt shrugged. "If the shoe fits…" he said casually. Chris growled and took another step towards him, but Wyatt flicked a hand at him, and Chris found himself flying backwards and landing on the sofa.

"And don't _you_ dare get too cocky, kid," Wyatt told him, his voice grim. "You may be nearly seventeen, but I'll still whip your ass if you try and fight me. Get it? Got it?" Chris nodded sullenly. "Good."

Wyatt walked out of the attic, but stopped at the door. "I think you should have an early night, Chris," he said, his voice a little softer.

"I don't have school tomorrow," Chris retorted sharply, not looking at him.

"Never said you did," Wyatt responded, walking back over and sitting down beside him. He slid an arm around Chris' shoulders and went on.

"It's just…you've been attacked by Seekers twice today, and a six foot ten Stoli. Now, _maybe_ it's just me, but if _I'd_ nearly had my hand ripped off and then my mind assaulted by two sadistic troll-eagle-bloodhound-freaks, and _then_ been tossed around the attic by a demon with hands _approximately_ the same size as a pair of hubcaps, I'd want to sleep for a coupla days right about now. _But_, maybe that's just me."

"It's not just you…" Chris murmured, drawing his feet up off the floor and curling up with his arms around his legs. He let his head fall back against the back of the sofa, straightening when Wyatt gave a sudden hiss.

"What?" he asked, glancing around the attic nervously.

"I forgot to get Dad to heal you," Wyatt explained, before adding, "Turn your head to the left." Chris shot him a quizzical look. "Just do it."

Chris looked to the left. He felt his brother run his fingers lightly over his neck, then heard him say, "Um…well, _that's_ different." Wyatt's fingers left his neck, then Wyatt said, "Okay, you can look back now."

"What's up?" He asked him. Wyatt stared at him.

"What's up? _What's up_? What's up is that you have _fingerprints_ on your neck!"

Chris' eyes lit up. "I do?" He got to his feet and ran out of the attic, calling over his shoulder, "I have _got_ to see this!" Wyatt got slowly to his feet.

"Anyone would think it was a _good_ thing to have Stoli fingerprints on your neck," he grumbled, following him. He found Chris in the bathroom, in front of the large mirror above the sink, looking sideways at his neck in the mirror.

"That is _so_ cool…" he murmured, tracing the print with his fingers as Wyatt leaned against the doorjamb. Wyatt snorted.

"Oh, yes, so cool to have a demonic _thumbprint_ on your throat," He replied sarcastically. Chris turned his head slightly, examining the bruise.

"I think it's a middle-finger print, to tell you the truth…"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Listen, have a shower and go to bed, okay? And don't be too long about it. I don't want you slipping over in the shower." Chris looked at him in the mirror.

"Like I'd ever do _that_," he retorted. Wyatt shrugged.

"_I_ did that time that ogre thought I was a demon 'cause I threw that energy ball. Remember, he smashed my head into a wall and gave me the biggest concussion of my life," Wyatt reminded him.

Chris snorted. "That was you. This is me." Wyatt glared at him.

"If I didn't know you were born a moron, I could've sworn that Stoli damaged your brain, tossing you around like that."

Chris smirked. "Look who's talking…" he said, trailing off. Wyatt's glare intensified, and he tossed Chris a towel, adding a little TK to it so that the towel's force knocked his brother back a few steps.

"Hurry up. I want to have a shower, too," he told him, backing out of the bathroom and shutting the door.

"Then why aren't you having a shower first?" Chris asked him. Wyatt stuck his head back into the bathroom.

"Let it never be said I was not a gallant individual who let his younger brother have a shower first," he replied with a faint smirk, glancing upwards.

: _Scoring Brownie points?_ : Chris asked him through TP. Wyatt smirked.

: _Like there's no tomorrow._ : he responded. : _I actually want to be alive to celebrate my twenty-first._ :

:_ Let me guess. Your charge, right? _: Chris thought, amused

:_ The girl is insane: last time I was there she used me for target practice, for chrissakes… _: Wyatt's mind-voice trailed off as he closed the door.

Chris laughed out loud. It was just his brother's luck that he got assigned a charge who wanted to use him for target practice. He flicked his right hand at the shower door and it opened with a bang. Another flick of his wrist, and the _Hot_ and _Cold_ taps both twisted to the left. Water began to spray out of the shower-head.

Chris counted to ten before pulling his T-shirt over his head and kicking off his jeans. He stepped under the shower spray and let the water - that was at _just_ the right temperature - wash away the grime of the day. He gave a contented sigh as the hot water needled his back, relieving the sore muscles from his aerial display in the attic, courtesy of the - now-vanquished - Stoli. He tilted his head back slightly so that he could wash all the dust out of his hair.

After fifteen minutes of standing under the hot water he felt almost human, instead of like a demonic punching bag. He turned the taps off and wrapped the towel around his waist before stepping out of the shower. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror.

His hair, instead of being the dusty brown it had been, was now black from the water. His bruises had come up as black and dark purple marks encircling his throat, and he had a large one on his left shoulder, where he'd hit the ground and the stand for the Book of Shadows when the Stoli had tossed him. A series of smaller bruises, scrapes, and cuts ran down the insides of both his forearms, and on his stomach.

_Gotta get longer T-shirts,_ he thought, then he smirked as a thought occurred to him. _Any other kid would say "Gotta stop being thrown around by demons"._

Turning away from the mirror, he TK'd his clothes to him, then walked over to the door and knocked on it to let Wyatt know the shower was free before orbing to his room.

For a moment or so he surveyed the mess he'd left it in in distaste, then he tossed the clothes he was holding into the hamper beside the door. He flicked his hand at his CD and MD collection, and they all flew up off the ground and into their proper place in the CD/MD rack. A second flick of his hand sent his clothes flying into his closet and hanging themselves up neatly.

Half a minute later, his room was completely tidy again. As he looked around, admiring his handiwork, he gave a large yawn. Suddenly tired, he walked over to his dresser and grabbed a pair of boxers and a T-shirt out. He pulled them on and TK'd his towel into the hamper. He collapsed on his bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. Within a minute he was fast asleep.

* * *


	14. Screwed Fate & Dying Dreams

Eryn dumped her bag on the bed before flicking her fingers at the door and TK-ing it closed. Glancing around the sparsely decorated room, she noticed a large dresser situated in the corner of the room, almost opposite the bed, and above it, a mirror. She walked over to the dresser and examined her reflection. The girl in the mirror examined her back, her grey eyes serious.

_If eyes are the windows to the soul, whoever fated mine was just being a smart-ass,_ she thought, amused in an ironic sort of way. Leaning forward slightly, she breathed gently on the mirror. Her breath created a circle of fog on the reflective surface. With the tip of her right index finger, she wrote: Grey Black (E) _plus_ White (G) Me. She stared at the equation for a moment, then, sighing, she wiped the writing off with her wrist.

"And the screwy thing is," she said out loud to her reflection, "that there _is_ no outward sign. I mean, I look normal, even though I'm anything but. Even the majority of my powers seem _relatively_ normal, by witch standards."

Turning away from the dresser, she walked over to the bed, cracking her knuckles. She sat down on the bed

_/…it hurt…oh, god, it hurt…he felt so cold…the wound in his stomach from the athame wouldn't stop bleeding…_that_ had hurt, being stabbed…more than hurt…oh, god, he didn't want to die…it was getting hard to breath…he didn't want to die…_/

Eryn catapulted to her feet with a strangled gasp, her hands clutching her stomach. She looked down at her abdomen and slowly moved her hands away. She sighed in relief. No blood. She swallowed hard and turned slowly to look at the bed.

She'd felt like she was…dying. But she hadn't been. She hadn't been stabbed with an athame in the stomach…she hadn't felt her own blood draining out of her…hadn't felt her own lungs stop taking in breath…hadn't felt her own heart stop beating…

She felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes and bit her lip, hard. She knew what she _had_ felt. She had felt the dying memories/emotions of the twenty-two-year-old young man who had lain on that bed as he died. Eryn cursed her 16th birthday to hell.

The day Eryn had turned sixteen, she had developed Psychometry: the ability to feel and see things connected with an object. It was an obscure branch of Premonition: it only let the witch see into the Past events that object had been there for, not the Future.

Eryn had had Psychometry for over a year, and she hated it. She couldn't fully control it, and because every object in the world had had at least _one_ thing happen to or near it - be it good, bad, joyful, fearful, angry, horrified, or whatever - she could never escape it. The fact that she was an Empath as well only served to make it worse: it boosted the feelings side of the Psychometry. If, for example, she picked up a demonic athame, she would feel murderous and evil until she put it down.

Eryn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She walked back over to the bed and hesitantly reached out and laid her hand on the bed

_/…it didn't hurt so much, anymore…did that mean he was dying?…oh god, he hoped not…he didn't want to die…he couldn't…he hadn't saved him…he'd failed…that seemed to hurt so much more than his stomach, now…don't you give up, either 'You Either'……………_/

Eryn pulled away, trembling. He'd died. Whoever he was, he'd died. She wondered if anyone living in the house now had known him, if they remembered him….if they had cared about him.

He'd died for protecting someone - that much she could tell - or trying to. She wondered if he had failed. If whoever he'd been trying to save had been saved. She hoped they had, and he hadn't failed.

She'd heard his last thoughts, and his last words. He'd been telling someone not to give up. She hoped whoever it was hadn't given up. He'd died to help them. The least they could've done was keep going.

She sighed. _Great,_ she thought ruefully. _This is just great. I get given a room that has a bed that someone _died_ in._ She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, then glanced around the room.

"If you're still here, I want you to know I'm sorry you had to die," she said softly. The chances of the poor guy hanging around were actually pretty good, considering the manner of his death, and the fact that he'd left behind some unfinished business. Just in case he was stuck in the room with no way to get free, she began to recite a spell.

"I call the Old Ones, Blessed Be,  
To take this spirit and set it free.  
If it now lingers, let it go on,  
On to where it does belong.  
But if it chooses to here stay,  
Let it go on another day."

Eryn glanced around the room, but nothing seemed out of place. He probably _had_ moved on, she thought, hoping she wasn't just kidding herself. If the other person had promised to not give up, though, he would have moved on, she reasoned. He had truly believed they wouldn't give up…

A knock on the door made her jump. Rolling her eyes at herself, she walked over and opened the door. Wyatt was standing outside.

"Hey," he said with a small grin.

"Hey yourself," she told him.

"Listen, if you want to have a shower, it's free."

"I didn't realize I would have had to pay," she replied. Wyatt laughed.

"I didn't mean it like that! I meant my lazy-ass brother has finally got out of the shower, so you can, you know, have one."

Eryn nodded. "I will, thanks," she said with a smile. He nodded and began to close the door.

"The towels are in the cupboard opposite the bathroom," he added just before he completely closed it.

Eryn blew out a breath and walked back over to the mirror. She examined herself critically, then tugged at a strand of dusty red hair.

"To wash or not to wash?" she asked herself, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. She shook her head slightly, and the dust rose slightly to create a weird sort of halo around her head. With a small smile, she pulled her hair out of its ponytail and shook her head, hard. Soon the dust was flying.

After a minute or so, she stopped and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was now back to its original burnished red. "Not to wash," she said with a satisfied grin. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, leaving a small amount not pulled through, then she twirled the rest of her hair around that part and secured it in a bun with a second hair-tie.

She walked over to the bed, and was about to sit down, but stopped herself just in time. She grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder without touching the bed, then walked out of the bedroom, hoping she wouldn't run across Chris.

A few moments later she was tossing the towel over the shower rail and turning the water taps to get the right temperature. As she waited for the water to heat up, she pulled her dusty T-shirt over her head, undid her belt, and kicked off her jeans. She stripped off the rest of her clothes, then dived into the shower.

Three minutes later, all the dust and grime had been washed away, and she was stepping out of the shower, the towel wrapped firmly around her. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and orbed back to the room.

She pulled out a pair of white silk boxers and a tank-top that said "_Bite Me…Gently_" and laid them on the bed - being careful _not_ to touch the bed itself - then dried herself off quickly. She dropped the towel on the floor, then grabbed the boxers - carefully - and stepped into them before yanking the tank-top over her head. With a faint sigh, she turned and looked at the bed.

"Okay," she said softly. "You don't like me, and I don't like you, but I have to sleep here tonight. So, please…stop giving me hits. And don't give me any weird dreams. Okay?" For a second longer, she stared at the bed, then she rolled her eyes at herself.

"Great," she said out loud, "I'm having a conversation with an inanimate object. Not only that, I'm _requesting_ that same inanimate object to _not_ give me any weird dreams, as if it could decide not to…" She sighed to herself. "I need a shrink."

Looking back at the bed, she took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. She walked over to the side of the bed. _I won't have a psychometric hit, I won't have a psychometric hit,_ she chanted to herself as she reached the bed and began to draw back the covers. _Weird mantra,_ another small, always sarcastic and analytical part of her mind said as she continued her chant. Breathing slowly and evenly, Eryn sat down on the edge of the bed

_/…cold, cold, cold…_/

and slowly swung her legs onto the bed. The familiar coldness was creeping into her blood, but she forced the feeling away, ignored it, pretended it wasn't there…and suddenly, it disappeared, leaving her slightly breathless.

Nodding slowly, she slid her legs under the covers and then pulled them up to cover her body. She let her head fall slowly back until it was resting lightly on the pillows. Nothing more happened.

With a small, heartfelt sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head sink into the soft, fluffy pillows. Then she frowned as a thought occurred to her.

"Lights…" She groaned. She opened her eyes and glanced at the door, and at the light switch positioned just to its left. She squinted at the ground, guessing how many feet she'd have to go. It wasn't that far …but then again, if she got out of the bed now, she might have to go through the whole _I won't get a psychometric hit_-thing again.

_I'm justified,_ she thought, extracting one arm from the warm bed and twitching her fingers at the light switch. It pushed down with a faint _click_, and the room was plunged into…not complete darkness, but damn-near close.

With a tired yawn, Eryn closed her eyes again

He was lying on the bed. The blood from the wound had soaked through his shirt and was spilling down his left side, soaking through the back of his shirt and jacket and into the sheets of the bed.

………

His left side was one big hurt. It ached, but in a cold way, like ice. He felt so cold, as if his blood had turned to ice as well.

………

_I don't wanna die,_ he thought desperately. _I don't wanna die. I'm too young to die. I'm not even twenty-two yet…_ he laughed sadly, then stopped as pain shot through his chest.

………

A black mist seemed to float over his eyes, and he blinked. When it cleared…it didn't clear. Not really. When he looked at the doorway, the bright wood seemed to have a greyish tinge to it…everything did, walls, floor…he raised his hand with an effort. His skin seemed to be drained of colour, too.

………

_Weird,_ he thought, letting his hand fall back on the bed. He swallowed.

………

_Hurry, Dad,_ he thought. _Hurry. Save him. Save him, you save me._

………

He took a slow, cautious breath in. It was starting to get harder to breathe. He knew that was a bad thing. A very bad thing. He'd actually done grade ten Biology, and he knew that if it was getting hard for him to breathe, and he'd sustained an injury that involved blood flowing _out_ of his body, it meant that he had lost a lot of blood…meant that there wasn't enough oxygen feeding the cells in his body…meant that his lungs were starting to collapse…

………

His breath hitched in his throat

her eyes snapped open, and she sat up. She tried to breathe, but her lungs just didn't want to. Then, reluctantly, they began to move outwards as she inhaled. Air flowed into her lungs, and she collapsed backwards with a sigh, enjoying being able to breathe.

After a few moments in which she concentrated on breathing and not thinking about _him_, she got out of the bed. She flicked her hand in the general direction of the door. The lights came on with a faint buzz, harsh and bright, but Eryn didn't flinch or blink as she began grabbed her back-pack from where she had tossed it. She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It read 2:01. She rolled her eyes, then flicked her hand again at the light switch. The room was plunged once more into darkness. She glanced at the black mass beside her that was the bed.

"I can _not_ do this," she said to it. "I don't want to die, in real life, or in my dreams. My death, or someone else's. So screw you, and this room, and I'll be upstairs if anyone needs me."

She grabbed a blanket off the bed and orbed into the attic. She tip-toed as quietly as she could to the sofa, avoiding the creaky floorboard the Stoli had stood on before when they'd vanquished him, the one with the scorch mark. She sat down on the sofa, punched one of the cushions so it was softer, then curled up, drew the blanket up around her, and went to sleep.

* * *


	15. Beauty Sleep & Lime Green Munchkins

Chris got up early the next morning. All things considered, he thought, he felt pretty well-rested. He dressed quickly in a pair of old jeans and a faded T-shirt, then checked his neck in the mirror. The Stoli's fingerprint had faded slightly to a dark purple mixed with green and yellow. He grinned.

_That would look so cool as a background, _he thought, eyeing it in the mirror. _I wish I could take a pic…pix…pixt…_ His grin widened as he remembered Wyatt's new phone. Then he frowned. To get to Wyatt's phone, he would have to go to his room, and face…the Horror.

The Eternal Mess.

The Cesspool of Untidiness.

Chris shuddered slightly, then sighed and looked at the bruise once more. _Oh, what the hell_, he thought with a shrug.

Wyatt was still asleep when he orbed in. He looked around him at the mess his brother called a room and sighed. It was just…just…_wrong_ to have a room this messy and not do something -_ anything_ - to clean it up. He glanced around for his brother's jacket and saw it hanging off the handle of the door. He began to navigate his way as carefully as possible through the minefield that was Wyatt's room's floor.

He had just made his way to the jacket and was lifting it off its resting place when he heard Wyatt say in a muffled voice, "You better have a bloody good reason for waking me up, Chris." He winced.

"I need to borrow your phone," he replied gingerly.

Wyatt groaned and rolled over to look at him. "Why don't you just buy one for yourself instead of waking me up when you try to steal mine?" he grumbled.

"Because I'm saving for a car," Chris informed him.

"No you're not, you're saving for a motorbike," Wyatt said, a modicum of amusement infiltrating his voice. He added, "Don't worry, I won't tell Dad."

"Thanks."

Wyatt sat up. "You can borrow my phone, too," he told him, "if you tell me what you want it for."

Chris arched his neck slightly and indicated the finger-print. "Photo."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "You're crazy," he complained, lying back down.

"I inherited it from you," Chris told him.

"Who the hell are you gonna send it to, anyway?" Wyatt asked.

"Prue, who else?" Chris replied. "She'll think it's hilarious. And I'm gonna send it to my laptop, too. I'm thinking of putting a negative filter on it and having it as a background…"

Wyatt snorted.

"It would be a talking point!" Chris said defensively. His older brother rolled his eyes and rolled back over, burying his head in the pillow.

"I'm going back to my beauty nap," he told him, his voice muffled once again.

The opportunity was too great to pass up.

"Beauty nap? That could take weeks…" Chris said, then slapped his free hand over his mouth.

Wyatt, furious, sat up and flicked his fingers at him, hoping to TK him into the door, but Chris orbed out just in time. He orbed into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, looking at his reflection. He shook his head at himself.

Him and his big mouth. If only he could just shut up, or think before he spoke.

_Maybe you should remember that next time you attack some innocent girl who needs a place to stay so she doesn't become demon-kibble, even if she does orb like a Whitelighter,_ a tiny voice whispered from the back of his brain.

"Shut up," he grumbled, trying to ignore the flicker of guilt. The voice was right. He had made a hasty generalization, even though it was a pretty well justified one. Just because she could orb didn't mean she was a Whitelighter, or fully a Whitelighter. Hell, he and his brother were living proof of that!

He made a resolution: next time he saw Eryn, he was going to be civil. He was not going to snap her head off. Hell, he might even apologise.

But right now…he held the phone up and smiled.

Carefully, he lined the camera up with his bruise, watching in the mirror as the image changed on the screen. When the bruise was fully centred on the screen, he took the picture, then turned the phone around to have a look.

After a moment, the picture of the bruise took up the screen. Chris laughed. It was so _weird_…to think he had a _fingerprint_ on the side of his neck…

He saved it under "fingerprintpiccie", closed the phone and slid it into his pocket before orbing into the kitchen. He walked over to the pantry, pulled out a box of cereal, and set it down on the counter. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, then flicked his hand at the fridge. The door opened, and the milk soared out. It landed gracefully on the counter beside him as he poured the cereal into his bowl. He closed the box and sent it flying back into the pantry as he poured the milk into the bowl, before banishing the milk, too, back to its place. With a twitch of his fingers he sent the bowl flying over to the opposite counter as he grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer, then walked over and sat down at the counter. He scooped up some cereal and was about to raise it to his mouth when he noticed the smashed tile on the counter in front of him.

"Oh, crap…" he whispered, putting down his spoon and pushing the bowl aside. The triquetra tile from the back door was lying on the counter, smashed into three pieces. Chris vaguely remembered making it when he was little. His Mom had loved it, and had always commented on it. How had it been…? He groaned as he realized. When he had slammed the door the day before, he had heard the tinkle of breaking glass behind him. He hadn't thought about it since, but…that must have been it.

He sighed slightly, then frowned. Wyatt had obviously gotten to the tile before him. So why hadn't he fixed it? The pieces of the tile were laid out with half an inch between the blue, green and purple parts, but an entire inch between the purple and green sections. Chris opened his mouth to say a spell, then closed it. He reached out slowly and pushed the green third of the triquetra in until it was touching the blue third, and half an inch away from the last section, which was purple.

Chris sat staring at the triquetra for a few moments, then shook his head slightly and sat back and stared at the counter. He felt like…like there was something he had just been thinking about, but…now he couldn't remember. He sighed and got to his feet, pissed off.

If there was one thing Christopher Perry Victor Halliwell hated more than Demons, jocks and broccoli, it was having his mind screwed with.

_Okay, it's either Cleaners, or one of those damned Farthin demons,_ he thought furiously, remembering when he and his brother had gone up against the tiny lime-green mind-manipulator demons. The evil munchkins had made the two of them believe that their own family was evil, and even thought that hadn't happened this time - at least, he was pretty sure…he hated his cousin Josh with much the same hatred he usually did - the experience had left him with the same weird sense of forgetting what he had just been thinking about.

He began to TK his breakfast to the sink, then stopped, TK'd it back to him and quickly took a couple of mouthfuls. _I'm not gonna do _that_ again…_he thought before sending the bowl back along its original course. A few years back he'd…but it didn't matter, he was over it. Assured that the bowl was safely in the sink, he orbed out.

* * *


	16. Hello Daddy

Chris orbed into the attic. The attic had always seemed to him like the safest place to be in the house. That and the fact the Book of Shadows just happened to be there, and it was in the Book that he could find the spell to vanquish any little lime-green mutant midget Farthins that may just happen to be hanging around. He began to walk towards the pedestal and the Book and glanced casually at the sofa, then froze.

Curled up on the sofa, her dark eyes following him, was Eryn.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked cautiously. He was making a concerted effort to not do anything to piss her off, but even so he was fully-expecting her to blow up. So when she spoke, he was extremely surprised that she wasn't yelling.

"Couldn't sleep," she replied quietly.

"Happen a lot?" he queried, still standing where he was.

"Only when someone dies in the bed I'm sleeping in," she said dead-pan.

Chris arched an eyebrow slightly. _Not much you can say to that. I wonder if she's…no, she can't be serious._ "So…did you sleep any better up here?" he asked slowly. Eryn gave him a crooked smile.

"Yeah. I could breathe." She slowly got to her feet and stretched her arms up above her head. "But even so, I didn't sleep much," she added, lowering her arms and rolling her shoulders.

"Why's that?"

She shrugged slightly. "New places…they make me nervous. I don't usually sleep more than three hours in a new place on the first night. I get all angsty. But I did last night." She went quiet for a second, then shrugged again. Chris noticed that she looked kind of pale. "Not the best experience of my life."

Chris watched her. He didn't know what to say. Then it hit him. They had just had a conversation…a civil one. Neither had bitten the others head off, it hadn't turned into a screaming match, and she hadn't threatened to deck him. He opened his mouth to speak, but a swirl of blue and white orbs appeared in the door of the attic and solidified into one very pissed off Wyatt.

"Oh, crap." Chris said, backing towards the Book as Wyatt slowly advanced on him.

"You're gonna wish you'd never been born, boy," Wyatt told him grimly.

"Can I make a plea?" Chris asked, holding up his hands. Wyatt looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head.

"Um…no." Wyatt took another couple of steps towards Chris, then dove for him. Chris side-stepped him and managed to take a step towards the door, but then Wyatt grabbed him by the back of the shirt and yanked him back. Chris managed to utter one tiny "help" before Wyatt grabbed him in a headlock and began to drag him bodily over to the east window of the attic.

"Uh, Wyatt, don't…" Chris began as Wyatt flicked his fingers at the catch on the window. The window opened, and Wyatt tossed Chris out.

"Could you…_not_ have killed him?" Eryn asked from where she was standing in front of the sofa. Wyatt turned to look at her. "Because I was just having a civil conversation with him."

"Oh, hey," he said, shooting her a grin. "Didn't see you there." He waved his hand at the window, and it closed.

She nodded. "Yeah, I kinda guessed that."

"What do you mean, 'civil conversation'?" he asked. She shrugged.

"Just what I said. Civil Conversation. He didn't bite my head off, and he didn't say something to make me feel the need to smash him. Civil." She frowned at him. "And then _you_ felt the need to throw him out a _window_."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "I was justified."

Eryn arched an eyebrow. "Justified? How so?"

"He woke me up."

"Oh, yeah, and that _so_ justifies throwing one's brother out of a third-story window and watching him go _splat_."

"I didn't go splat," Chris said from the sofa behind her, making her jump. She turned around to look at him.

"Jesus, you're quiet," she remarked. "I didn't even hear you orb in." He nodded slightly.

"Being thrown out of a window for opening your big mouth does that to you," he told her, shooting Wyatt a nervous look. But Wyatt smirked and held up his hands.

"We're even, little bro…for now…" Chris gulped "…but right now we have bigger demons to fry, namely the demons after Eryn." Eryn snorted.

"Oh, yeah, sure, you two are _so_ gonna vanquish these guys," she said sarcastically. Chris and Wyatt stared at each other.

"Well, gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," Wyatt said, a hurt expression on his face.

"At least we know where we stand," Chris murmured, looking at her from beneath lowered lashes. Eryn looked at him, then Wyatt, and sighed.

"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean it that way…well, I did, but…" She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "It's just…a lot of people have said that to me. Said that they were gonna vanquish these demons of mine." She shrugged. "Let's just say those that didn't die wish that they had."

Wyatt glanced at Chris, who nodded slowly. He got it. She didn't want them to get hurt, so she was trying to discourage them. She didn't want more blood shed on her account, more people hurt. He knew the feeling.

"We're not those people, though," Wyatt said softly. "We're twice-blessed. We can handle it." Eryn began to shake her head, but Wyatt interrupted.

"Look, we won't even attempt to go after them until we hear about them from you, okay? I mean, I didn't even know there was a demon called…Ardariaen?…consolidating power in the Underworld until you told me."

Eryn began to speak, but Chris interjected.

"Look, it's not like you have anything better to do than to tell us what's up. Your only other option is to sit around twiddling your thumbs, doin' jack-all all day. And, besides, all I've heard about the sitch is what Dad told me, and that was pretty vague.

"So you might as well tell us. Who and/or what is after you?" Chris asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Eryn sighed, grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like "Males…" and began.

"Okay, fine. What's after me is a demonic clan known as the Pen-Ultimae, and more specifically, the most powerful of their last generation, a demon called Ardariaen." She rolled her eyes.

"The Pen-Ultimae had this wacky-tabaccy idea that if they combined every breed of demon except the "unworthy" ones - Rat Demons and such - they would have the most powerful demon in the world." She sighed and shrugged.

"Well, maybe not such a wacky-tabaccy idea, because now they do in Ardariaen. His mother was a Pen-Ultimae, and his father was a Darklighter, so now they've gone and combined all the "worthy" demonic breeds with Darklighter blood.

"Ardariaen has an entire arsenal of powers, ranging from empathy to telecoercion, from molecular disintegration to reconstitution. He's the culmination of the Pen-Ultimae line: every power ever inherited in the history of the clan, he has." She shot them each a dark smile. "Scared yet?"

"Why exactly are they after you?" Wyatt asked. Eryn took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

"It's just because of…me. Who I am. What I am."

"Wow, extensive explanation," Chris told her. She frowned, then shot him a crooked grin.

"Sorry. It's just…kinda hard to explain…"

"Does it have anything to do with the fact you're part Whitelighter?" Wyatt asked.

Eryn nodded slowly. "Partly." She sighed. "Ardariaen's never had the chance to get his hands on a real live Whitelighter before. When I came along, the offer was too good to pass up, especially since I'm part witch, too. I mean, think about it…" She looked at each of them in turn. "When a witch and a Whitelighter have kids, the results…they're amazing. You two are living examples, and so am I. We have powers any demon would kill for…and believe me," she added with a faint smile, "Ardariaen will kill for them."

"Kill?" Wyatt asked, arching an eyebrow. "I thought you said they inter-breed."

Eryn nodded. "They do…when they can. If they can't…when a demon breed won't comply…doesn't want to _dilute_ any of their bloodlines…then the Pen-Ultimae kill for powers. They figure that if they can't have that demon's blood in their progeny's veins, they might as well just have its powers."

"What's the difference?" Chris asked.

"When they get a demon's _blood_, the offspring will be invulnerable to that type of demon. If a Pen-Ultimae meets, say, a Gith Demon, they won't be attacked, because they'll be kin. Bound by blood. And they get the powers, too. But if a Pen-Ultimae just gets the _powers_ of a particular demon, they can still be attacked by that type of demon," Eryn explained.

"There's just one thing I don't get," Chris said slowly, getting to his feet and walking over to her. "It's been bugging me for a while."

"What?" Eryn asked.

"Why didn't you tell us you were half Whitelighter?" He asked, annoyed. Eryn opened her mouth to reply.

"Because she isn't half Whitelighter. She's only a quarter," a cool voice interjected. Chris saw Eryn pale slightly, then she took a deep breath and turned towards the speaker. Chris and Wyatt turned to look as well.

A thirty-something looking man was standing casually in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket. He had dark brown, almost black, hair, and grey eyes a few shades darker than Eryn's. He was watching them with an amused expression on his face, though that amusement stopped short of his eyes, which were like chips of steel.

He waved his hand, and a horde of demons shimmered into the attic, surrounding them as he added, "Hello, daughter."

Chris and Wyatt looked at each other, surprised, then at Eryn. She swallowed.

"Hello, Daddy."

* * *


	17. Bargaining

Chris and Wyatt stared at each other in shock.

:_ Did you know? _: Chris asked his brother.

:_ No, I had no idea, I… _: Wyatt began before something interrupted him.

:_ It's rude to whisper, you know. _: The demon's cool, mild voice slid into both their minds. It felt as if a bucket of icy water had been dumped on both their heads, and they pulled out of the link. Wyatt glared at the demon angrily.

"It's rude to eavesdrop, too," he told him sharply. "And to break into someone's house, uninvited, unannounced, with a horde of demons in tow."

"Really?" the demon asked, sounding amused. Wyatt nodded.

"Especially if we don't know your name," he added The demon chuckled, then glanced at Eryn.

"What, you're not gonna introduce me?" he asked. Eryn didn't answer. He sighed. "Well, I'll just have to do it myself." He took a step forward and gave a mock bow.

"My name is Ardariaen. Although you probably already knew that. I'm Eryn's father." He grinned. "I'm assuming you _didn't_ know that." He looked at Eryn. "She doesn't like people to know she's the daughter of Ultimate Evil. Thinks it's something to be ashamed of."

Chris glanced at the demons surrounding them nervously. The man in the doorway caught the look.

"Oh, don't worry. We're not here for you. At least, not yet."

"Now, why am I not reassured by that statement?" Chris asked sarcastically. The other arched an eyebrow.

"I see Eryn has had an influence on you…either that, or you're just naturally a cocky little shit."

Chris smirked. "Naturally."

The demon narrowed his eyes slightly at Chris, then shrugged and looked at Eryn. He cocked his head slightly, and a mildly hurt expression appeared on his face.

"What, you're not pleased to see me?" he asked her, his voice mock-disappointed. She swallowed.

"How did you find me?" she asked, and Chris glanced at her amazed. Her normally confident voice was gone. Instead, she sounded…nervous.

Ardariaen laughed, and the hairs on the back of Wyatt's neck stood on end.

"Well, I could lie," he began, tapping his lower lip, "And say I used a spell to find you, but that wouldn't be fair on the one who actually _did_ find you." Throwing back his head, he made a peculiar noise in the back of his throat that was a cross between clicking and a humming. Chris and Wyatt glanced at Eryn. She was frowning, then a look of comprehension passed over her face, followed by a look of incredible sadness.

A moment later, a tiny black shimmer appeared at Ardariaen's shoulder. He held up a hand, and it fluttered its black wings until it was over his palm, before gently alighting.

"The real honor for finding you goes to my friend Nightshade here," he said, nodding his head at the evilly smirking fairy. "She found you easily enough when you left this house and went to the bridge. When you and that pesky Whitelighter of yours finished talking, she followed you back from there to here, then came and told me where you were." He smiled at the tiny being. "She's been a big help." The fairy gave a shrill, evil-sounding giggle.

"You sick bastard…" Eryn murmured, looking upset. "What the hell did you do to her?" Ardariaen smirked.

"Now, now…" he said, flicking his hand casually at her, "…watch your language, Eryn. You really shouldn't speak to your father that way..."

"Screw you, Ardariaen," she snapped suddenly, angrily. "I didn't ask for a lecture, I asked you what the hell you did to Nightshade. She's a fairy queen, for chrissakes, you can't just…"

"…Turn one evil?" Ardariaen finished for her. She glared at him, and he smirked. "Oh, but I can, Eryn. I've already done it, obviously." He shrugged. "It was actually incredibly simple…once I realized that only high-level fairies could survive the process. I went through quite a few fairies before I realized. They all went _poof_ before I could turn them completely evil. Then I thought, maybe these fairies I've been using…maybe they're just too _weak_ to be turned. So I went to Faery and caught Nightshade here…" His voice trailed off as he smirked at her. "And the rest is history."

"Like I said, you're a sick bastard," she snarled at him. He glared at her then, his dark eyes shooting daggers at her.

"And like I said, watch your language," he snarled in return, powering up a fire-ball in his right hand and aiming it at Wyatt, "Or one of your little friends might just have to die. To teach you a lesson."

Eryn held out her left hand and conjured an energy ball. She aimed at Ardariaen.

"And you'll end up with half a face," she said coolly. Chris saw a shocked look passed over Ardariaen's face, but a second later it disappeared, and he wondered if it had even been there.

"I didn't know you had energy balls, Eryn," the demon said with a faint smile, powering down his fireball. "New power?" She nodded.

"I've been getting a few of them lately," she told him. He arched an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm…"

He smirked slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his handsome features. "Interesting. Very…very interesting."

Eryn pulled back her arm a tiny fraction, fully intending to hurl the energy ball, if only to see the self-satisfied, smug, _annoying_ look disappear from his face, but she thought better of it. The action would only serve to enrage him, and she did not want _that_ to happen. Besides, if the energy ball hurt him - and she had no doubt that it would - it would show him exactly how strong she had become. She didn't want him to know the limits of her strength. She'd already shown him a little by conjuring the energy ball - _You don't have time for heroics! You're only priority right now is to stay alive, not protect two who can look after themselves! _a part of her screamed - but what was done was done.

With an inward scream of annoyance at her father, at Fate, at her whole gods-damned freaking hell-hole of a life, the girl powered down her energy ball and went into negotiator mode.

"Dad. Dearest father of mine. We shouldn't fight. I mean, we're family." The man - demon...ah, hell, maniac - in question arched an eyebrow. She went on. "Why don't we settle this differently…a bargain, perhaps?"

"What exactly did you have in mind?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. She took a deep breath.

"If you promise to leave Chris and Wyatt alone…to not harm them in any way…you _or_ your minions…I'll go with you. Quietly."

"_What?_" Chris hissed, staring at her. Ardariaen laughed.

"And what puts _you_ in a position to bargain, darling daughter of mine?" His cheerful voice turned to ice. "My minions and I outnumber you and your playmates six to one. I could take you at any time."

Eryn sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice had retained its old sarcastic edge.

"Oh, come on. Chris and Wyatt are two of the progeny of the Charmed Ones. They pack enough power between them to blow San Francisco off its foundations in the Earth itself. Do try and keep up, Daddy."

One of the demons to their left gave a low, gravelly hiss and glared at Eryn, its fuchsia eyes smoldering.

"Oh, shut up, Acrathen, " Eryn snapped, turning her grey eyes its way. The demon continued to hiss. Eryn turned away, then turned back, her body blurring as she moved. A fire ball was conjured in her hand and on its way towards the minion before it had a chance to blink.

The fireball hit the demon with such force that it stumbled back two paces before it even realised it was doomed. Acrathen let out one desperate scream, then exploded into wisps of smoke.

For a moment all was silent, then Ardariaen quietly remarked, "You just vanquished one of my lieutenants."

"It was nothing personal. He just annoyed me," Eryn said with a smirk. The other demons moved restlessly around them, and she glanced at them one by one. "Talkarn, Ramget, Karthy, Domso…I know your names, and I'm pretty sure…" she squinted at one of the demons to her right, then grinned. "Oh, Ladsfi, sorry, didn't recognize you under all that scar tissue."

The demon arched an eyebrow. "You don't?" he asked, mock-puzzled. "But you're the one who gave me these scars."

Eryn cocked her head. "As I said before, 'Nothing personal'." She frowned slightly. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah.

"I know all your names, and I know all your vanquishing spells. They're tried and true against others of your…various kinds. You just saw me vanquish the most powerful of you minions with a mere fireball. Wanna bet I can make you go _poof_ with a spell?"

All the demons immediately quietened down. Eryn stared at Ardariaen.

"That goes for you, too, Dad," she told him. The demon cocked his head.

"What? You think you have a vanquishing spell for _me_ hidden in your young mind?" he asked with a snort. Eryn shook her head slowly.

"No. I don't think that at all. But I do think you should recognize a good offer when you see it. I can keep vanquishing your moronic minions until you realize that the deal I just offered you is the best one you're gonna get all day."

Ardariaen frowned slightly. It was true, he realised. His daughter was as powerful as he'd hoped - and feared - she would be. When he could strip her of her powers and take them for himself, he would truly be the most powerful being in this world, but whilst she retained them, even considering how immature her powers were, she was a serious threat to him.

He nodded slowly. "All right," he said calmly. "I accept your offer."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "And my terms?" she asked cautiously. Ardariaen growled.

"And your terms," he rumbled.

"Done," she said with a grim nod. "Let's do this."

She conjured an athame into her right hand, and before Chris or Wyatt could blink, she sliced open her left palm. Blood dripped slowly onto the floor as she walked towards Ardariaen. Chris took a step after her, but something held him back, like a kind of invisible force-field. Beside him, he felt Wyatt try and go forward, but he too was thwarted.

Meanwhile, Ardariaen had also conjured an athame and was doing the same thing. When they were a foot away from each other, they stopped. Holding their left hands up in front of them, they placed pressed their hands together, palm to palm, then slid them around until they were grasping hands, fingers entwined, their thumbs crossed on top.

After a moment, a weird, dark blue light issued from the bottoms of their palms and from between their clasped fingers. Ardariaen's face contorted in pain, and Eryn gasped. A flash of light raced from Eryn's shoulder, down her arm and into her father's hand. Chris saw a similar bolt of light issue from Ardariaen's chest and travel quickly down his arm and into Eryn's hand.

Slowly, the blue light enveloping their hands began to dissipate. Ardariaen looked at Chris and Wyatt over the top of Eryn's head.

"I would've let you die," he remarked idly. "And to be perfectly honest, I thought she would've done the same. But she's more like her mother than I gave her credit for. Natalia didn't have her temper though." He sighed and looked down at his daughter. "Bit of a disappointment really," he murmured, before glancing up at Chris and Wyatt once again.

"I'll be back for you two," he said before he shimmered out. His demons lingered for a second longer, then shimmered out themselves.

* * *


	18. Dead Ends

"This sucks," Chris said flatly, glaring down at the Book of Shadows. "We've been looking at the Book for three hours and we have nothing - I repeat, _nothing_ - to go on."

Wyatt sat up from his stretched out position on the sofa and flicked a hand at the Book. It flew off the pedestal and soared over to hover in front of him. He grabbed it out of the air and began flicking through it again.

"Maybe we missed something," he suggested, his fingers running unceasingly over the worn pages. Chris snorted.

"Oh yeah," he said sarcastically. "Sure. We totally missed something. I mean, this is only the sixth time we've looked at it. Of course we missed something…"

"Shut up, Chris," Wyatt said with a faint sigh as he examined the page on Faustian Deals. Chris walked out of the attic, still grumbling to himself. Once he had left, Wyatt snapped the Book shut and leaned his forehead against it.

Chris was right. It had been three hours and fourteen seconds since Ardariaen had taken off with Eryn, and three hours since they had begun searching the Book for…well, anything. Anything that had to do with the Pen-Ultimae, or Ardariaen, or the weird-glowy-light-thingy that had happened when Eryn and Ardariaen had done that blood-oath thing. With the exception of a very small, almost minuscule paragraph on the Pen-Ultimae, they had drawn a blank at every turn.

Wyatt flipped to a page almost at the very beginning of the Book and focused on the bottom left-hand corner, and more importantly on the five-by-three inch paragraph on the Pen-Ultimae. Chris had found it on the third re-reading of the Book, and only because he had caught the letters _P-e-n-U_ when he was looking at a page on a type of Power-Stealing demon.

Wyatt shifted so that the light fell on the tiny paragraph and re-read the words for what seemed like the hundredth time.

'_The Pen-Ultimae is a small demonic clan that is obsessed with gaining power._

_This clan is not a big threat: their dreams for power are unrealistic, as they wish to combine all demon breeds in one bloodline._

_The Pen-Ultimae clan is comprised of lesser demons, all related. A simple vanquishing spell is all that is needed to vanquish them. It has been speculated that because they are all related, if you hurt one, you hurt all.'_

Wyatt frowned and stabbed his finger angrily at the second sentence. _Oh yeah, _so _not a big threat,_ he thought darkly, remembering what Eryn had told him about Ardariaen: about all the powers he had gained, and the minions he had, some of which Wyatt had already had the…ahem...pleasure of meeting.

He scanned the rest of the verse. _'The Pen-Ultimae clan is comprised of lesser demons.' Lesser demons…if Ardariaen was a lesser demon, then I'm an Elder._ Again he examined the last sentence. '_It has been speculated that because they are all related, if you hurt one, you hurt all.'_

He leant back against the sofa, thinking hard. If this part of the entry was accurate - although he didn't think it was, considering the other crap it had detailed - then all they had to do was get one of the less powerful Pen-Ultimae demons and torture it until some of the other demons turned up, maybe even Ardariaen himself. But then what? Eryn had said that Ardariaen was the "culmination of the Pen-Ultimae line". If he was a powerful Demon, you could bet your ass all of his family would be, too. He smirked.

_Well, at least we know how she dealt with the Stoli all by herself._

He was still mulling over the possibilities when Chris came stomping back into the attic and over to the sofa. The younger Halliwell had just reached it when he suddenly gave a yelp of pain and hopped backwards, his hands going to his left foot. Wyatt sat up straight and looked at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, scanning the ground, but all he could see was the floor-boards, dust, a rug, a scorch mark, and Eryn's back-pack. Chris swore softly, then nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just stubbed my toe on Eryn's bag. Whatever she's got in there, it's hard as concrete." He tested his weight gingerly on his foot, then shifted easily on both feet with a sigh of relief. "No permanent damage," he told his older brother with a quick grin, before taking a step forward and scooping up Eryn's bag. He nearly dropped it in surprise.

"What's wrong?" Wyatt asked, seeing the expression on his younger brother's face. Chris just shook his head slowly and tossed the bag to him. Wyatt caught the small leather back-pack with one hand, and promptly dropped it. The bag was only about twelve inches by eight, but it was as heavy as a couple of encyclopedias…at least. He arched an eyebrow slightly.

"Well, that was different," he remarked. Chris nodded.

"I'll say," he remarked drily. He nudged the bag with his toe. "What do you reckon is in it? A brick? No, no, wait, a dictionary. Or better yet, a series of dictionaries." Wyatt frowned at him and picked the bag up.

"Maybe…" he said slowly, examining the bag, "…we should find out."

It took a couple of moments for what his older brother had said to sink in, but when Chris realised, he did _not_ think it was a good idea. At least, not if one wanted to live. In fact, it was an exceedingly stupid idea. And Wyatt wasn't usually capable of exceedingly stupid ideas. At least, not one _this_ stupid.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Chris asked. Wyatt nodded.

"If what you think I said is "Maybe we should find out" in reference to Eryn's bag, then yes, I did say that," he replied calmly

"We can't go through her stuff!" Chris felt a glimmer of despair. His brother - his dear older brother - had finally gone around the twist.

"She might have something in there that could help us help her," Wyatt said with a shrug.

"Yeah, help us help her _kill us_ after we help her," Chris argued.

"You're rambling."

"I am not rambling."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I…forget it. We're not going through her stuff. She'd kill us."

"Good point," Wyatt said, tapping his lower lip with his forefinger. "That's why _you_ are going through her stuff."

"_What?_"

"I said, _you_ are going through her stuff."

"I am not going through her bag!"

"Why not?"

"She'll kill me!"

"So? What do you care, you hate her anyway. What's the big deal?"

"I…she…look, what makes you think I'd be able to get into her bag, anyway? She's a witch: she's gonna have magically protected it somehow, and you know it's gonna be a powerful spell…I mean, look at the spells we have on our locks, and we're not even being permanently hunted by a homicidal father…"

Wyatt waited quite patiently for his younger brother to end his tirade, then asked, "Are you quite done?" Chris sighed.

"Yeah."

"Then just open the damn bag."

* * *


	19. The Bag, the Book, & the Loophole

Chris eyed the bag nervously.

Well, you'd eye a bag nervously, too, if its owner was a witch-Whitelighter/demon-Darklighter, who just so happened to have a homicidal, power-hungry maniac demon of a father planning to murder her.

He took a step forward and picked it up. He still hadn't gotten used to the idea that such a small bag could be so damned heavy, and he nearly dropped it. Again. Eryn was gonna be so pissed off when she got back. He just hoped she didn't have anything valuable and fragile in there.

He took a deep breath, and tried as hard as he could to project goodness towards the bag. "I'm a friend of Eryn's," he murmured, hoping that that would nullify any curses, hexes, or spells that she had put on the bag so people couldn't open it. He took a hold of the clasp...

"Just open the bag already, will ya?" Wyatt asked, annoyed. Chris shot him a murderous look.

"Will you shut up? I'm trying to make sure I won't get incinerated by anything she could've put on the bag..."

"Well, try to make sure you won't get incinerated quickly!" Wyatt retorted.

"Shut. UP!" Chris growled at him, then turned his attention back to the bag. He grabbed a hold of the smooth metal clasp and flipped it up. For a moment it didn't move, then, as if it had been on time delay, it flicked upwards and the bag opened. Chris let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding in relief, then frowned slightly.

"Well, that was easier than expected," he told Wyatt. "A little...too easy, to tell the truth." Wyatt arched an eyebrow.

"Maybe she figured she would always have her bag on her," he suggested. He shrugged. "Who knows, who cares? It's open now: see what's in there."

Chris looked in the bag. "Um...well, her clothes. And some other stuff. And...a book."

"A book?"

"Yes, a book. It's really little, though, about the size of one of those pocket dictionaries. Couldn't be a Book of Shadows or anything."

Wyatt sighed. "Grab it out, anyway. It might be a book on the Pen-Ultimae or something..." Chris nodded.

"Okay..." He reached into the bag to grab the book...and he couldn't reach it. He frowned and reached further into the bag. The book was still where it had been, but his hand...Chris felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"What's wrong, why aren't you getting the book?" Wyatt asked him impatiently

"Let's just say it's a bit further away then I thought it was," he replied. He withdrew his hand, frowning a little.

"Uh...could you please explain?" Wyatt asked. Chris set the bag down on the floor and turned to him.

"Well, I think...I think she has put a spell on this bag. A spell to expand its capacity."

Wyatt arched an eyebrow. "Are you serious?" he asked. Chris nodded. "How big is it?" In reply, the younger Halliwell picked up the bag and turned it upside down.

A deluge of objects came tumbling from the mouth of the bag...clothes, shoes, smaller bags, boxes, potion bottles...and the Book. Chris and Wyatt stared at it.

Eryn's Book was roughly the same size as their own Book of Shadows, but it was almost one-and-a-half times as thick. It was bound in well-worn black leather, with an ornate silver triquetra adorning the front cover. An elaborate silver clasp, covered with a tracery of Celtic knotwork, kept the Book closed.

"It looked smaller when it was in the bag," Chris commented finally. Wyatt nodded slowly.

"I'll bet it did," he replied, eyeing the Book. He glanced at his younger brother. "So, read any good books lately?" Chris glared at him.

"No. No way. I went through her bag, so that means you get to read the Book."

"But I thought you liked reading other people's Books...y'know, see the different spells and potions and things," Wyatt said hopefully, his dark hazel eyes meeting Chris' lighter ones. Chris gave him a small, grim smile and pointed at the Book.

"Now, Wyatt," he said, and the tone of his voice told Wyatt that he would brook no argument.

Wyatt shot him a dirty look. :_ Wimp, _: he thought in Chris' general direction as he walked over to the Book.

"I heard that," Chris grumbled at him.

"You were meant to hear that, bro," Wyatt told him before focussing his attention on the Book. He lifted his foot and gingerly nudged it. Nothing happened. He nudged it again, a little harder. Still nothing. Taking a deep breath, he reached down and picked it up, letting it out in a relieved sigh when nothing happened. He walked over to the sofa and sat down. He looked at it for a moment.

"You gonna open it or not?" Chris asked, walking over to sit on the arm of the sofa. Wyatt frowned slightly.

"I guess..." His voice trailed off. Chris reached over and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry. If you die, I'll avenge you," he told him cheerfully. Wyatt arched an eyebrow.

"Exactly how do you avenge my death if the thing that killed me was a book?"

Chris smirked and looked at the Book.

"Would you prefer to have all your pages ripped out, or be burned, or be sunk in the sea?" he asked it politely. Wyatt laughed, then frowned slightly as the Book seemed to shiver in his grip. Chris looked at him closely. "What's up?"

"The Book...I think it understood you or something."

Chris arched an eyebrow. "Okay...and the sky is purple. Wyatt, it's a book for chrissake's. Sure, it's a Book of Shadows, but it is still a book, an inanimate object. It can't understand human talk!" Wyatt rolled his eyes.

"I know, I know, it just...it felt like it shivered with fear or something." Chris snorted.

"Oh, yes, the Book shivered with fear...look, you know how you said it understood me or something...let's just say it was the 'or something', all right?"

Wyatt sighed. "All right." He laid his fingers gently on the clasp, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then quickly undid it and threw the Book open. He waited. After a moment with nothing happening, he slowly opened one eye. The Book was lying innocently on his lap, opened to the first page, which had a beautiful inscription of the Wiccan Rede on it. He glanced at his brother, a grin on his face.

"I'm fi-ine, I'm fi-ine," he said in a sing-song voice. Chris just rolled his eyes at him.

"That's great, Wy, but do you reckon you could, oh, I dunno, maybe start looking for entries on the Pen-Ulitmae or the glowy-arm-thingy? Because you may be fine, but Eryn might not be."

Wyatt arched an eyebrow. "You've certainly had a change of heart. What happened to the 'I don't care about her, I just wanted her out of the house,' trip you were on, huh?"

Chris winced as his earlier words, yelled at Wyatt when his then-furious older sibling had asked if he cared that he had just effectively kicked their Dad's charge out of the house. "That was when I still hated her guts."

"You don't now?" Wyatt asked.

"Not so much."

"Well, I guess that's an improvement..." Wyatt muttered, turning his attention back to the Book. He gently touched the worn page, then began to slowly flip through it.

----

For fifteen minutes, there was total silence as the brothers scanned the pages of the Book for any signs of the Pen-Ultimae or the deal-thing, then Wyatt stopped flicking through the pages, his eyes widening in shock at the sight before him. He and Chris stared at the page, then at each other.

"Well, I guess we've found our Pen-Ultimae reference," Chris said softly.

"Um...yeah, I think we may have," Wyatt agreed. "In fact..." he went on, flicking through the pages following the initial double-page entry, "...I think we may have found our comprehensive chapter-slash-guidebook on the Pen-Ultimae."

"Okay. All right. Good. Let's get started reading this..." Chris began.

"...Because the sooner we finish, the sooner we can help Eryn," Wyatt finished for him. Chris glared at him.

"I hate it when you do that."

Wyatt just rolled his eyes at him and shifted the Book to where they could both see it. "Just read, okay?"

Chris nodded, his eyes beginning to flick over the lines of the entry as Wyatt began reading the second page. After a few paragraphs, Chris stopped reading and poked Wyatt in the shoulder.

"Wyatt..."

There was no reply: his brother was too busy reading the book. He poked him again.

"Wyatt..."

"Hm...?" Wyatt asked distractedly.

"Wyatt!" Chris said insistently, poking him harder. Wyatt turned to him furiously.

"Ow! Stop poking me! What is it?"

Chris waved his hand at the Book. "This contradicts everything we've read about the Pen-Ultimae."

"Yeah, and it confirms everything Eryn told us," Wyatt replied, stretching slightly. "What's the problem?"

"It's just...how is it possible that such a powerful demonic clan has been out there for all this time, and we don't even know about it? And why haven't they made a bid for power? They're certainly powerful enough...hell, it says so right here," he said, stabbing a finger at the Book. Wyatt nodded.

"Yeah, and it says right here..." he pointed to a line of text on his page, "...that they're waiting until they have combined all the bloods - or powers - of all the powerful corporeal beings before they make their move."

Chris shrugged. "They have. Ardariaen's got all the powers of all the powerful demonic beings..."

"Chris, I said corporeal, not demonic," Wyatt interrupted.

"So?"

"So, Ardariaen isn't the one with all the bloods of the powerful corporeal beings. But he did contribute to the person who does."

Chris nodded slowly. "Eryn."

"Yeah. The only problem is, she's not on their side. She's good. So that's a bit of a problem for the Pen-Ultimae. I guess they figured everyone in the family would be evil. Bit of a misjudgment on their part, really..."

"So that's why?" Chris interrupted.

"That's why what?"

"That's why Ardariaen wants to kill her? So he will have all the powers of the powerful corporeal beings?"

Wyatt grinned. "See, I knew you weren't slow! Yeah, that's it. Once she's dead, and he's got her powers, he can make a bid for domination of the Underworld and Above-lands."

Chris sat silently for a second, absorbing the information, then nodded. "Okay. Well, this information..." he ran his fingers over the pages "...could help us stop Ardariaen and help Eryn, so we should keep going."

Wyatt nodded, and the two of them bent over the Book again. After a few minutes, Chris stopped and glared at Wyatt.

"I am not slow!" he said indignantly. His older brother looked up from the Book and stared at him for a few seconds, then shook his head and went back to reading.

"I'm not!" Chris insisted, but Wyatt just nodded and laughed.

"Sure, Chris. Of course you're not. Now, let's just get focussed on reading, huh?"

Chris nodded grudgingly, grumbling under his breath.

"I am not slow."

----

"Nothing. Nada. Zilch," Wyatt announced flatly half an hour later. He and Chris had trawled through the entire entry on the Pen-Ultimae in Eryn's book...all twenty-seven pages of it.

"'The Demons of the Pen-Ultimae clan are possessed of a strength and a power that no Demon or Witch can hope to match...each generation is stronger than the generation preceding, three-fold...' " Chris quoted grimly. The two brothers looked at each other.

"We're screwed," they said at the same time. Wyatt sighed and rested his chin on his hand.

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "There's no spell, no vanquishing potion, other demons we can get to attack them for us..."

Chris stood up and stretched. "There's got to be a way to beat them," he said, walking over to their own Book of Shadows and flicking through the pages. "Maybe if we combined some vanquishing potions for some upper-level demons together, we could..."

"Blow ourselves up," Wyatt said. "Or end up with a totally inert potion that wouldn't hurt a gremlin."

"Stop using chemistry terms in magic," Chris told him. Wyatt just rolled his eyes.

"It was the best term to describe it. But anyway, back to the problem at hand...maybe we should be looking for something else. Maybe we're getting too stuck on looking for the Pen-Ultimae. Maybe we should start looking for the oath-thing, or the minions he had." Chris arched an eyebrow at him. "What, you got a better idea?"

Chris walked back over to the sofa and sat down, and they began to - again - flick through the pages. Occasionally, they'd see something that looked promising, but invariably turned out to be nothing.

----

An hour lately, Chris was lying flat on his back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, while Wyatt continued to look through Eryn's Book of Shadows.

"Y'know, you could help me with this," Wyatt told Chris. "Instead of me feeling like my arms about to drop off, you could have helped out, and..."

"...we'd both feel like our arms were about to drop off," Chris finished, his eyes never leaving the ceiling. "Stop being such a sissy."

Wyatt waited a moment, then subtly flicked his fingers at his brother. The younger boy suddenly flipped off the sofa and landed on his butt on the floor.

"Ow, geez, what was that for?" Chris asked, getting gingerly to his feet. Wyatt arched an eyebrow.

"Do you really wanna get chucked out a window again?" he asked pointedly. Chris wrinkled his nose slightly and sat down beside him.

"Um, no, not really." His older brother grinned and flicked another page, then stopped.

"Oh, look, the arm...glowy...thingy," Wyatt said, pointing to a page in the book, and more to the point, at the illustration of two people, their hands clasped in front of them, a glowing blue light emanating from their arms. Chris craned his neck around to look over at the book, and for a moment the two of them read the entry in silence. Wyatt finished first and leaned back with a sigh.

"That's not much help...it just says that it's a kind of blood oath. And we already know about them."

Chris frowned slightly. "Hang on a minute..." he grabbed the book from Wyatt and re-read a line of the entry. "Look, check it out: '...The deal-makers are bound to do exactly as they have sworn to. The terms of the bargain must be spelt out, to the letter, elst there may be loopholes one may exploit to nullify the deal...'"

Wyatt frowned. "Like I said, not much help. I mean, Eryn's terms were she would go with him if he promised to not harm us, or allow any of his minions to harm us. And the moment she dies..." he pointed to the end of the entry, "...it's null and void, and he can kill us at his leisure." Chris shrugged.

"Yeah, well, she never said she'd stay with him once she went, did she?"

* * *


	20. Captivity

Eryn felt a rush of pain flood from her heart down her arm, and she gasped. Blue light flashed out from her and her father's joined hands, blinding her. Blinking, she heard Ardariaen say, "I would've let you die, and to be perfectly honest, I thought she would've done the same. But she's more like her mother than I gave her credit for. Natalia didn't have her temper though. Bit of a disappointment really." There was a beat. "I'll be back for you two."

A second later, she felt her body ripple as she was shimmered out. For a moment she felt the icy cold of the Void as she passed through, then she reformed. She looked up into Ardariaen's dark soulless eyes. He smirked at her.

"At last, at last," he said, pleasure evident in his voice. He gestured to their surroundings with his free hand. "Welcome to my humble lair." Eryn looked around. Instead of the dank, dark and dingy cave that most demon overlords opted for, the PenUltimae's lair looked like it had been transported direct from an Arabian palace. Silks hangings covered the walls, satin throws adorned the furniture, and Persian rugs of all hues and designs lined the floor. She looked back at the demon and arched an eyebrow.

"Not so humble," she told him as she tugged her hand out of his grip. He shrugged.

"What can I say? I enjoy the finer things in life."

She glared at him, then glanced down at her hand. A faint blue scar marred her palm. She sighed. _Another scar,_ she thought. _Great. Just great. Well, at least it'll disappear when the oath's ended. When I die._ She looked up at Ardariaen.

"So what happens now?" she asked him. She knew he was going to kill her, to absorb her powers so he could dominate the Underworld and Above-lands, but if she could find out how, and where, she might stand a chance…she might find a way to make him vulnerable…she might be able to save herself…but Ardariaen shook his head, smiling in an almost fatherly way.

"My dear Eryn. You don't think I am actually going to _tell_ you the particulars of your death? And give you a chance to escape? No. No, of course not. You are now going to go to your rooms, and you are going to wait for your doom." He snapped his fingers. "Take her away."

One of his minions walked over and grabbed her arm. It turned her away from Ardariaen and began to lead her away. As she turned, a wave of exhaustion broke over her, making her dizzy. A mist settled over her vision, then cleared, leaving her eyesight sharper than before.

_Guess that's the only perk,_ she thought grumpily, shaking her head to try and get rid of the faint buzzing she could hear. She had, in the space of an instant, gone from feeling like the powerful demon-Darklighter/witch-Whitelighter she was to feeling as weak as a kitten. _Not good,_ she thought, upset. Her new scar on her palm ached fiercely._ The spell,_ she realized, glancing at it. _It had to be the spell. The Oath of Aureolus. No wonder I feel like crap._ Then another thought occurred to her, and a small smile curved her lips upwards. She allowed herself to be led away by her minion escort, and as she did so she glanced back over her shoulder.

Ardariaen had turned away from her and was walking to the large, velvet-draped lounge situated at the edge of this room of his lair. As she watched, the demon staggered slightly as he walked, and for a second he looked as though he'd fall. One of his minions stepped forward to help him, but he held up a hand to stop it. An angry word was enough to halt any and all further attempts to help.

As Ardariaen sat down on the lounge (with less than his usual grace, Eryn noted) she saw, with her suddenly sharpened vision, that the demon was pale beneath his tan, and his hand shook slightly as he raised it to his brow. As Eryn looked back to see where she was going, her smile grew. Yes, the Oath may have drained her strength. Yes, she may be weak. But so was he. So…was…he.

----

Eryn walked along beside the demonic guard as it led her through Ardariaen's lair.

_If this place was in the Above-lands, it would probably be the same size as a small hotel,_ she thought, slightly awed by her father's massive domain. She frowned slightly. Her father. Because that was what Ardariaen was. Her father. She kicked angrily at a wall as she passed, prompting her Tamget demon escort to jab her in the ribs with a hard appendage. She shot him an angry look.

"Listen, dirtbag, I may have created an Oath of Aureolus with my father saying I'd come here with him and let him kill me, but I never said I wouldn't take out his minions."

The demon, who was preparing to hit her again, paused, confused, then slowly lowered its clawed hand. She nodded to it.

"Thank-you," she said mockingly. Glowering at her, obviously angered by her tone, it hissed a string of curses in its native demonic tongue, insulting her, her mother, her siblings, the Underworld, the Above-lands, and Ardariaen. She _tsk_ed at it. "Careful, or I'll tell Dad what you just said about him."

The Tamget brightened - its way of turning pale with fear - and hissed at her questioningly. She smirked at it.

"Of course I know your language. I'm actually related to you, albeit distantly. I had to learn your language. It was one of the things my father insisted all his kids learnt. I was supposed to be the heir to all this…" she gestured around them, "…one day. That was, of course, before he decided it was better to kill me." The demon hissed at her again, and she laughed. "Because I'm too powerful, and too good. That's why."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, then the Tamget hissed at her again. She arched an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

It elaborated, its fluoro pink tongue flicking erratically as it spoke. She nodded slowly. "You want to know if I mean good as in better, or good as in Good?" It hissed a query, and she raised her hands defensively.

"Hey, I'm a little rusty where demon languages are concerned. Since half my brethren are trying to kill me, I can't exactly mingle at the demon social nights."

The Tamget gave a high-pitched whistle.

"What, you think that's funny?"

It flicked its 'hands' at her - a nod. She grinned at it. "Well, I guess you're right. And I meant both ways, by the way. Good as in better, and good as in Good. And I am. In a fair fight, I could defeat him" She snorted. "But what do demons like Ardariaen know of fair?"

The Tamget shot her what may have been a sympathetic look, then stopped dead in the middle of the hall they were walking down. She frowned and stopped too.

"What are we doing here?" she asked, looking around. There was nothing in this corridor. No doors to dungeons or rooms, no staircases leading up or down, just…nothing. The Tamget slanted a wary glance at her, then rolled its head on its long, thin, scaled neck - its equivalent of a shrug - and hissed a short phrase at her. She frowned again.

"You're at the end of your jurisdiction?" It nodded, then hissed again, a longer spiel this time, and finished by tapping a small, brass bracelet on its arm appendage. Eryn stared at it, then looked at the bracelet. She'd just assumed it was a decorative piece, but upon closer examination she could see sigils for binding and entrapment adorning the thin band.

"So…you're bound here?" she asked. It flicked its hands in affirmation. "How long?" It made a weird sound, somewhere between a trill and a hiss. "400 years? Are you serious?" It flicked its hands again. She narrowed her eyes. That was off. Ardariaen couldn't possibly have bound the Tamget…not for that long, anyway. Maybe it was a spy, trying to get information of her powers out of her.

"I didn't realise Ardariaen was that old," she said casually, leaning against a wall. It rolled its eyes at her and hissed a reply. She winced.

"Oh. Mathaeri. She did it. Charming." It hissed a query, and she laughed. "No, I never have had the displeasure of meeting my paternal grandmother. She'd kill me herself, probably."

The Tamget opened its mouth to say something further, but closed it with a _snap_ as the sound of another demon coming towards them became apparent. A few seconds later, a large, burly demon with a half-ruined face rounded the corner and came striding towards them. Eryn let her face relax into a grin.

"Didn't realise Ardariaen was using you as a lackey to transport prisoners, now, Ladsfi!" she called to the brown-skinned Kantyth demon.

He arched an eyebrow at her, then glanced at the nervous Tamget. "Why are you letting her lounge around like that?" he asked it in its own tongue.

Before the smaller demon could answer, Eryn said, "Because I reminded him that although I am my father's prisoner, I could still roast him to a crisp if I so choose."

Ladsfi frowned, then looked at the Tamget. It flicked its hands at him frantically, then hissed a panicked question. He sighed.

"Yes, you may go." The Tamget practically flew back the way they came, and Eryn rolled her eyes slightly. He caught the motion, then grabbed her by the arm and began to lead her through still more corridors. For a few minutes Eryn was silent.

"Why the hell why can't we shimmer already?" she asked, pissed off, as they rounded what seemed like the thousandth corner. Ladsfi laughed.

"Because you'd break the shimmer and leave here, that's why!"

Eryn huffed. "I may be good, Ladsfi, but I'm not that good." The older demon sighed.

"Listen, Princess…"

"Don't call me that," Eryn said, her voice low and sad and dangerous. "Do not. Call. Me. That."

Ladsfi sighed again. "Eryn, your father fears you. That's why he wants to kill you. He knows that even if he just took your powers, you would find a way to get them back, and then kill him. If you would just agree to go along with him…then when he dies, you can take over, as he intended for you to do, and you could set things right…"

"What about all the people who would die in the meantime?" Eryn demanded angrily. "All the Witches, humans, Whitelighters that will be killed? I wouldn't be able to just stand by and watch them all die."

"If you die, than so shall they," Ladsfi told her bluntly. "You're father, at his present strength, would not be able to take over the Above-lands and Heavens. Not only does he not have the power, but the Elders of the Clan forbid it…" Eryn gave a mirthless laugh.

"For once, I'm actually praising my family. They're not going to let him do it."

"…but when he has your powers," Ladsfi continued, "They will give him the 'all clear' and let him proceed. The no-one will be able to stop him, not even your twice-blessed friends."

Eryn was quiet for a few minutes, as Ladsfi led her up a set of stairs. "You really think so?" she asked steadily.

Ladsfi nodded. "Did you ever really believe they could help you defeat him?" he asked her. She didn't answer.

There was silence for the next few minutes, then Ladsfi stopped outside an archway. He led her through, into a small antechamber, nodded to the guard, then led her into the second, larger chamber. He led her over to the far wall and set about chaining her to the wall. The chains were deceptively delicate, as were the shackles, but Eryn could feel the magickal energy coursing through them.

"Is this _it_?" She asked him incredulously, looking around. "All my father's power, and he can't even conjure me up a nice room with a _bed_?"

"Don't worry, Princess," Ladsfi told her, slipping the key into his pocket. "It won't be for long." She looked at him calmly.

"You know, you should really quit Ardariaen's service, Ladsfi."

He shrugged. "What would I do instead?" She looked down at the ground and didn't reply, and he smirked. "Didn't think you could think of anything for me to do." He turned away from her and walked away. Once he was gone, she lifted her head.

"In answer to your previous question, Ladsfi: yes, I did believe they could help me kill him. And I still do."

* * *


	21. The Map

Wyatt lay the scrying down on the table with a sigh.

"It's useless, Chris," he told his nervously pacing younger brother. "I can't find her, not in San Francisco, not in America, not anywhere on earth…" Chris spun the globe angrily.

"Stupid Earth," he muttered under his breath, before raising his voice and saying, "Okay, well…what about under it?"

Wyatt arched an eyebrow. "Underworld?" Chris nodded, but Wyatt shook his head. "It makes sense, given that Ardariaen is a _demon_ and all, but you know as well as I do we can't scry for or sense somebody when they're taken to the Underworld. It's just not possible."

Chris growled angrily and spun the globe again, hard. The force of the spin made the globe fly off the table. Wyatt flicked a hand at it, and it froze just before it hit the floor. He shot Chris an annoyed look, then walked over and grabbed the globe, setting it down carefully.

"Look, I know you're upset about Eryn, Chris, but could you _not_ destroy the world?"

"There has got to be a way to find her," Chris said, ignoring him. The younger Halliwell turned and walked over to where they had left Eryn's Book. Wyatt sighed.

"Chris…" he began.

"There's lots of stuff in here we've never seen before," Chris told him, flipping through the pages. "So maybe there could be a way to scry for her, or a spell to find her, or…"

Wyatt walked over and gently pulled the Book out of Chris' hands. He set it down on the table beside the sofa, then sat down beside Chris.

"Chris," he said firmly. "Quit blaming yourself for what happened. It's not your fault."

Chris reached over and picked up the Book again. "I never said it was," he told him defensively.

"You don't have to. You do anyway. Look, Eryn made her decision. We tried to stop her, but it was what she wanted to do." Chris shook his head.

"No, it couldn't have been. No one wants to die…" He slammed the Book shut, hard, his annoyance getting the better of him. "There has got to be _some_ way to find her," he said softly, looking up at Wyatt. His older brother sighed, then shrugged and nodded.

"Keep looking, Chris. Maybe there _is_ something in there. I mean, we didn't even go through the whole thing. And you're right, there is plenty of stuff in there we've never seen before." He got to his feet and stepped away, then he turned back. He laughed. "Hell, maybe there's even a map of the Underworld in there…"

Suddenly, the Book opened, its pages rippling as if in a high wind. Chris jumped at the sharp _snap_ from the Book as it opened, then relaxed as he saw the pages flicking over. He saw this happening all the time, with his and Wyatt's own Book…spirits from their ancestral line lending a helping hand, helping them to find a particular spell or potion that would help them to vanquish a demon or save an innocent. Now, he realized, some ancestor of Eryn's - perhaps her mother, perhaps the matriarch of the line - was helping them, making their search for whatever could help Eryn just that little bit easier.

After half a minute, the pages stopped turning. Chris waited a second, in case they started up again - hey, even spirits missed pages! - but when they remained motionless he leaned forward, looking at the page the spirit had indicated.

And stared.

"Wyatt," he said, his voice choked. This was unbelievable. There was no way this was real…and yet there it was, right in front of him. Wyatt arched an eyebrow at him.

"What's up?" he asked, stepping over and looking at the page curiously. There was a large title, written in a gothic hand that had written quite a few headings in the Book - the ink was fairly new, so Wyatt guessed it was Eryn's - and beneath it was a large rectangle of folded parchment, held in place by a leather strap. He tried to read the title, then sighed. "Chris, I can't read the damn page upside

down…could you…" He broke off as his younger brother held up the Book, right way up so he could read it. He read the title, then stared at Chris.

"No way."

"I know."

"It can't be."

"It is."

"No," Wyatt said, shaking his head, "No, it _can't_ be. I mean, we've seen some pretty weird stuff before, hell, a lot of improbable stuff, too, but this is impossible. No one has _ever_ been able to map the Underworld, and I mean _ever_."

"No one _good_," Chris argued. "How do we know maps of the Underworld aren't commonplace Down There?"

"We don't, but how the Hell would anybody not a demon be able to get their hands on one?" Wyatt asked sharply. Chris looked at him.

"Uh, Wy, Eryn's part demon. Remember?" Wyatt nodded reluctantly. Chris smirked in triumph, then began to slide the parchment carefully out from the restraining strap. Wyatt stopped him.

"Uh, Chris, what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm…taking a look at the map," he told him slowly, as if he was talking to a five-year-old. Wyatt rolled his eyes.

"Chris, what happened last time you took a look at a map?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Chris frowned slightly.

"I drew a pretty good map of Germany and a got a B in geography…your point being?" he replied. Wyatt sighed.

"I meant a magical map, Chris."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Wyatt…"

"What happened?"

"Geez, Wy, give it a rest…"

"You ended up in ancient Mesoamerica, that's what happened! Excuse me if I'm a little cautious this time around about letting my little brother read a magickal map, especially when he nearly got his head chopped off and his heart ripped out as a sacrifice last time!"

"That ended up working out okay, remember? I didn't screw up the timeline or anything..."

Wyatt shrugged. "I don't care. I'm the oldest, and while Dad's out of the house, what I say goes. I'm looking at the map first." Chris growled at him, and Wyatt arched an eyebrow. "Got something to say?" He asked him, but Chris shook his head.

"No, _King Wyatt_," he grumbled, sitting back in the sofa as Wyatt took the Book from him. Wyatt shot him a dirty look, then shrugged.

"There's another good point. If I got sucked through some weird portal and lost my powers, I'd still be able to summon Excalibur, whereas you'd just be sitting in some alternate reality or time, twiddling your thumbs, waiting for me and Dad to come rescue you..."

"I would not twiddle my thumbs!" Chris yelled at him angrily. Wyatt held up a placating hand, but Chris kept ranting, babbling on about how he would be just _fine_ in an alternate reality. Wyatt sighed - his brother tended to babble when he was annoyed, and it could be a real pain in the ass - then recited a variation of a spell he remembered his great-Grams telling him had worked on his own mother when she was a little girl.

"May this teen,  
Quick as you please,  
Stop his snit  
and quickly _FREEZE_."

There was silence. Wyatt glanced over at his younger brother. Chris was frozen in place, his mouth open in mid-rant, his hand half-raised as if he was going to TK something…probably into Wyatt. Wyatt grinned, then walked over to the table and unfolded the map. He put it down on the table and studied it carefully. Then frowned.

It looked just like a normal map of the world…continents, seas, countries and landmarks all marked in a neat hand. Then he noticed that the map he was looking at was a cover for the map beneath. He flipped the parchment up and over, revealing the map beneath, and his eyebrows arched as he saw it.

It was amazingly detailed: demonic lairs, abyss', volcanic pits, cess pools, mouths of purgatory…all this and more were drawn in, with tiny labels denoting exact co-ordinates of the features of the map. Wyatt whistled softly.

"Neat," he murmured, looking it over admiringly. A particular - familiar - marking caught his eye, and he bent down for a closer look. "Nexus…" He read the co-ordinates, then flipped the cover map back over. He laughed out loud as he saw what was directly above where the Nexus was labelled in. "San Francisco…so the map on top is a reference map, telling someone where the demonic landmark they're looking at on the other map is in the world." He touched the dot for San Francisco, and stared as details from the other map leached through the normal map. He grinned. "Quick reference."

"And, anyway, you're just a…" Chris suddenly said from behind him. Wyatt turned around as Chris stopped talking and looked around for him. He arched an eyebrow as his younger brother's startled gaze found him.

"You froze me," Chris accused, slowly getting to his feet. Wyatt shrugged.

"Yeah. It was the only way to get you to stop babbling." Before Chris could start up again, Wyatt TK'd the scrying crystal over to his younger brother. Chris snatched it out of the air and shot Wyatt a confused look.

"What's this for?" he asked, holding it up. Wyatt grinned.

"Wanna scry for Eryn?" he replied, tapping the map behind him. Chris' eyes lit up, and he walked over to the table. He frowned slightly at the normal map, then Wyatt flipped it over to reveal the demonic map beneath and he grinned.

"Awesome," he murmured, running his fingers lightly over its surface. Wyatt let him absorb it for a couple of moments, then nudged him.

"Come on, get scrying. I wanna find Eryn and get back here in time to vanquish Ardariaen before dinner."

Chris snorted, then held the scrying crystal over the map and let it spin. "I just hope it doesn't take…" he began, then stopped as the crystal dropped heavily to a point on the map. "…too long." He arched an eyebrow at his brother, then stooped to take a closer look at the point where it had stopped. He stared at it in amazement, then looked at Wyatt with an annoyed look on his face. "We didn't even have to bother scrying!" he exclaimed, pointing at the mark on the map. Wyatt looked at it.

It was labelled "Ardariaen's Lair".

"Okay, we're both idiots," he said, ruefully. Chris glowered at him.

"Oh, don't even try to pin this on me, too. I was the frozen one who wasn't allowed to look at the map, remember? And you were the one who had to scry for the Lake Como Water Demons to find they were at Lake Como, last year!"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, fine. It's all my fault! You happy?" Chris nodded, mollified. "So can we get ready to go save Eryn now? Or do you want to blame me for more stuff?" Wyatt demanded. Chris shook his head.

"I'll mix up some potions, you get some spells." He rolled his shoulders slightly. "Then we go get her."

* * *


	22. Saving Eryn

Chris and Wyatt orbed into a large, empty rock cavern. Chris glanced around the cave before giving Wyatt a nervous look.

"Uh, Wy, do you think we're in the right place?" he asked. As he spoke, a fire ball soared past, missing the two by inches.

"Die, Witches!" a voice snarled from the shadows. Wyatt shot his younger brother a resigned look.

"Oh, I'd say this is the place." He blinked in the direction of the hiding demon, blowing it up. He looked around. "Still, I think I expected something a little…grander. I mean…" He gestured to the walls. "…Ardariaen is the Supreme Bad Guy, in line to be the next Source, and he can't even conjure up some wall-hangings or something?" Chris snorted, and Wyatt grinned at him. "What do you say we go exploring, huh?" he asked. Chris nodded, and they headed for the entrance of the cave.

_Thirty Minutes Later_

"Okay, this is just ridiculous," Chris grumbled as they snuck down the umpteenth identical rocky corridor. "I hate this place. It's cold…

"Shut up, Chris," Wyatt told him from between gritted teeth.

"…and dank…"

"I swear to god, Chris…"

"…and boring…"

"Chris, I'm warning you…"

"…and I swear we passed that outcropping that looks like your nose ten times alre…ow!"

Wyatt grabbed Chris by the ear and twisted, hard. Chris yelped and grabbed at his brother's wrist, digging his fingers into the tendons. Wyatt hissed in pain and dropped Chris' ear, but managed to elbow him as he brought his arm down. They tussled silently for a couple more moments, then stopped and glared at each other. After a couple of seconds they came to an unspoken agreement, shrugged, and continued along the corridor. After a minute or so of silence, Chris spoke up.

"I say we look at the map again."

"Why?" Wyatt asked, glancing at him. "There's no point: we're already here." Chris shrugged.

"I know. But the map's pretty cool…it's got that weird quick reference thing. Maybe it's got a zoom feature, too."

Wyatt considered for a second, then shrugged. "It can't hurt."

"And it might help," Chris added, finishing the phrase. Wyatt arched an eyebrow at him, and Chris shrugged again. "We have our Dad for a father and you're wondering why I know crap like that?" he demanded. Wyatt shrugged one shoulder.

"It's not that I'm surprised you know it…I'm surprised you actually _retain_ it…" He ignored the dirty look Chris shot his way and continued along the corridor until he found a crevice big enough for the two of them to hide in. Once they were safely ensconced within he pulled the map out of his jacket and carefully unfolded it. They stared at it for almost a minute.

"If there's a zoom feature, I ain't seein' it," Chris said, sounding disappointed. Wyatt shrugged.

"It's a map, Chris, not a GPS," he reminded the younger witch. Chris frowned.

"Yeah, but it's a _magic_ map," he argued, a stubborn look coming over his face. Wyatt sighed, and was about to resign himself to a Chris-Rant when a noise from down the corridor caught his attention. He risked a peek into the rock hallway, then made a slashing motion across his throat, cutting Chris off. His brother stopped talking instantly and arched an eyebrow in askance.

"_Demons,"_ Wyatt mouthed in explanation. Chris nodded.

: _How many?_ : he asked telepathically. Wyatt raised two fingers. :_ That's it? _: he demanded silently. Wyatt nodded. : _We can take 'em!_ : Wyatt shook his head. : _Why not?_ :

Wyatt rolled his eyes. : _We're not here on a demon-hunt, Chris! Remember Eryn? Dad's charge, who you thought was our new Whitelighter? The witch/Whitelighter-demon/Darklighter we said we'd take care of, who got kidnapped by her father and we couldn't even stop it? The girl we're here to save? Remember her? _: he demanded. Chris nodded, then frowned and cocked his head. : _What?_ : Wyatt asked.

: _I think those demons are talking about Eryn,_ : he replied. Wyatt's eyes widened, and the two brothers immediately leaned closer to the opening to their hiding place, listening intently and watching as the demons walked past.

"D'ya fink da Boss'll be able ta kill 'er?" one of the demons slavered, a substance that looked suspiciously like human blood dripping down its chin. "I mean, _He's_ powerful an'all, but she's goddall dat _good_ magic in 'er veins. Wharrif…"

"What you're saying could be perceived as treason," the other demon snapped, its cultured voice making a distinct contrast to its partner's barely understandable drawl. "We could lose our heads for even thinking it! Put all such thoughts out of your minuscule mind and hurry up: we need to collect her from the dungeons for the ceremony."

After the demons passed them, Wyatt arched an eyebrow at Chris. : _What do you say we follow them?_ : he queried. Chris rolled his eyes.

:_ What say?_ :he replied sarcastically, extricating himself from the crevice and walking silently down the corridor after the demons; Wyatt followed him.

----

Five minutes of fast walking later, Chris and Wyatt glanced around a rock out-cropping to see the two demons stop beside another pair of demons who appeared to be guarding one of the doorways lining the corridor.

"We are here to escort the witch to Lord Ardariaen for the ritual," the cultured demon announced in formal tones, handing one of the guards a large black crystal. It examined it, then nodded and took a step back and gestured for the demons to pass. Chris glanced at Wyatt.

: _Are you thinking what I'm thinking?_ : he asked. Wyatt grinned.

: _If it entails snatching Eryn right now before those demons can take her to that ritual they were talking about, then yes, I am. _: He glanced around the outcropping again, then looked at his brother. : _You take the short one and Mr Culture, I'll take out the Brute and the...uh... _: He gave the mental equivalent of a sigh, then added:_ ...Stoli._ : Chris shot him a grim smile.

: _Hey, for once I gotta say, better you than me, bro,_ : he told him. Wyatt rolled his eyes.

: _Funny. Okay, three...two..._ : He conjured an energy ball then ducked out into corridor, tossing it towards the demons as he finished: _...one_ : Chris followed him into the hallway, TK'ing the cultured demon into a wall with his right hand as he threw the orb bolt he'd been conjuring with his left. The bolt hit the short demon in the centre of its chest, and it exploded in a shower of blue goo before it even had a chance to scream.

The remaining demons ducked for cover as Wyatt threw another energy ball at them, then the Brute screamed in agony as Wyatt managed to get him in his sights long enough to explode him. The Stoli and the cultured demon remained under cover for a moment longer, then emerged, throwing energy- and fire balls as they did so. Wyatt and Chris managed to blow up the first volley, and Chris deflected the next into a wall. The two demons ducked back behind their outcroppings, as did Chris and Wyatt.

"Well, that went better than I'd hoped," Wyatt said calmly. Chris shot him an incredulous look.

"Wy, I hate to break it to you, but while that may 'have gone better than you'd hoped', we've still got another two demons to vanquish. And did you see the size of that Stoli? It's well over seven feet tall...seven foot four, maybe. That's _fourteen_ powers it's collected, Wy...six more than you."

"But who's counting?" Wyatt asked sarcastically. Chris arched an eyebrow at him, and he sighed. "Okay, so maybe we've got our work cut out for us. But we've dealt with worse before...we can deal with this. It's just two demons, for chrissake."

"Speaking of which, what are they doing?" Chris asked. Wyatt glanced around the outcropping, then craned around for another look.

"I have no idea...I can't see them." He frowned and turned back to Chris. "It's like they've..." His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of something.

"They've what?" Chris asked. Wyatt swallowed, then pointed over Chris' shoulder. Chris turned.

_Oh-oh..._ he thought. Now they knew what the demons had been doing. Instead of discussing like he and Wyatt had - _Why do I ever open my mouth?_ he asked himself morosely - the two demons had used their knowledge of their surroundings to shimmer in behind them. And they were standing there now, both looking very pleased with themselves, each armed with their weapons of choice: energy ball for Mr Culture, a fireball in each hand for the Stoli.

"Die, Witches!" the cultured demon snarled, the energy ball leaving its fingers. The moment before it hit Chris, however, it stopped. It hovered in mid-air for a second, wavering as if unsure, then it sped back from whence it had come, hitting the demon in the centre of its chest. For a second it just gaped down, staring at the gaping hole in its chest, then it screamed, and imploded. Wyatt stared in shock at where the demon had stood, then met his younger brother's surprised gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Chris nodded slowly.

"Um...yeah, actually. I'm fine. I..."

"Won't be for much longer," finished the Stoli as it hurled its twin fire balls at the Halliwells. Before the two witches could react, however, the same phenomenon occurred: the two fireballs halted in their course a mere foot away from them, then doubled back and hit their conjurer in the chest. With an awful scream, the two boys were treated to a repeat performance of what had happened in their attic the previous day. For a moment they stared in amazement at the scorch marks on the stone floor that marked the Stoli's final resting place, then they turned to each other.

"Did you do that?" Chris demanded. Wyatt shook his head.

"I assumed you did...you've got a quicker reaction time on your telekinesis than I have," he returned. Chris shook his head.

"It wasn't me."

They stared at each other for a moment, then Wyatt murmured, "The spell...the oath...what about the oath?"

"What about it?" Chris asked, then it clicked. "Eryn made Ardariaen promise that neither he nor his minions could hurt us, didn't she?" Wyatt nodded, grim satisfaction on his face.

"Yeah...she was fairly specific about it, too, remember?"

Chris shook his head in wonder. "She thought she was protecting us from him later on, but she was actually helping us to rescue her...or do you think she knew?" Wyatt shrugged.

"Just one more thing to ask her when we get her back," he replied. "Come on."

----

Eryn was sitting, back against the wall, twiddling her thumbs when she heard the demons asking for her. She slowly got to her feet, wincing as the chains twined about her wrists dug in slightly.

_Well, it's been fun,_ she thought wryly...then she heard the unmistakeable sound of an energy ball sizzling through the air. There were yells as the demons scrambled for cover from...something. Eryn growled in frustration: being chained to a wall kind of restricted your view of anything beyond the confines of the room.

An odd sound - like the whistle of a shell dropping, combined with the sound of (unless she was mistaken) orbing - came into her hearing, then she heard an explosion. A splatter of blue goo hit the wall to the antechamber opposite her door. A moment later there was the deep, agonised scream of a Brute Demon, and the sound of a demon exploding.

Then there was silence.

Eryn strained against the chains binding her, trying to get far enough across the chamber to see something, _anything_, but the chains dug deeper into her wrists, and she had to bite back a yelp of pain. _Ow ow ow..._ she thought, wincing. _Okay, so I _won't_ be seeing anything. Fine._ The crackle of energy balls and the hiss of fire balls soaring through the air caught her attention, and she listened intently as a chorus of explosions signalled the the end of one lot of missiles. This was immediately followed by the sounds of a second volley being released, then the wall to Eryn's right shook. Dust and small rocks rained down on her, making her cover her head, and a fine crack appeared from the top left corner down through the centre of the rock. She stared at it.

"Oh, not good," she whispered to herself. She almost yelled, "Hey, important prisoner in here! Try not to damage me!" but stopped herself at the last moment. The less notice she attracted to herself at this time the better, she decided. _But this is one hell of a time to settle a blood-feud or whatever the hell it is,_ a small part of her said waspishly. Then she frowned.

There was silence. No sound of energy balls, no fire balls, no explosions...nothing. She shifted uneasily. _What the..._ she began, then she heard the sound of an energy ball, then a horrific scream and an imploding sound. Straining her hearing, she then heard the faint rumblings of a Stoli demon speaking, then the sound of a fire ball...then the Stoli screaming, and the familiar sounds of a Stoli being vanquished. Her frown deepened. This was getting more confusing by the second.

She was about call out to ask what was going on - consequences be damned - when she heard footsteps. They were coming towards her cell.

Fully expecting to see demons, she was completely blind-sided by what - _who_ - did actually enter her cell.

----

Wyatt and Chris entered the cave-like room to find Eryn standing at the back of it, looking a little dusty, but none the worse for wear. They watched as her eyes widened in surprise.

_Clearly,_ Chris thought,_ she wasn't expecting us._ There was silence for a few moments, as they looked at each other, then...

"Do either of you know what moron means?" she asked them finally. They looked at each other. This was not what _they_ had expected.

"Um…no." Wyatt said. Eryn's eyes narrowed.

"Okay, let me inform you. Moron means a person with a mental age not exceeding five years." She glared at them both. "And I see here before me two - not one, but two - prime candidates for Moron of the Year nominations."

For a moment she was silent, then she - quietly - exploded. "What, are you both freaking insane? Have you both lost your minds? I swear my life away so the two of you could stay safe, and what do you do? Come strolling on in here like you've got nothing to lose, when you could lose your _lives_…" Chris arched an eyebrow at her.

"You quite done?" he asked calmly when she paused in her raging. She glared at the two of them for a second longer, then shrugged.

"Yeah."

"Then come on, let's go," he said, beckoning. She snorted.

"What, you reckon I'm standing over here because I want to?" she asked. She turned slightly, and they could see the thin chain that was looped tightly around her wrists and secured to the iron ring in the wall, binding her to it.

"This is as far as I can go," she explained, turning back to face them. "They don't want me being able to hide in a corner and attacking them. Besides, this chain…" She turned so they could see her hands, then flicked her fingers at a rock on the ground. The chain glowed, and she gave a faint hiss of pain.

"…is enchanted," she concluded, looking at them. Wyatt shrugged.

"No problem," he told her, walking over. "Move as far away from the chain as you can," he instructed. She did.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked.

"Blow up the chain," he told her. She stared at Chris in dismay.

"I'm gonna lose a hand, aren't I?" she asked him worriedly. He grinned.

"Nah, a finger, two tops," he said in a mock-assuring voice. She groaned and closed her eyes. Wyatt turned and glared at him.

"Uh, Chris, hello, not helping!" he whispered fiercely. Chris rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," he muttered. Wyatt glared at him again, then turned back to the chain. Holding his breath, he flicked his hands at the chain. With a small poof, the chain blew up. Eryn opened one eye.

"How many did I lose?" she asked. Wyatt glared at her.

"None," he growled, then added, "You ready to get out of here?"

"Hell, yeah. Just one tiny problem."

"And what's that?" he asked. Eryn tapped herself on the chest meaningfully.

"I've still gone and sworn my life away, in case you haven't noticed."

"Well, um, not exactly," Chris interjected. Eryn frowned.

"Not exactly?" she echoed. Chris nodded.

"Yeah. You left yourself a loophole. When you made the deal. You said you'd go with him if he left us alone…but you never actually said you'd stay."

Eryn stared at him, then a slow grin curved her lips.

"If I leave now, it doesn't matter. I've upheld my end of the bargain: I went with him. Now he has to uphold his," she murmured, almost to herself.

"And now we can help you without getting hurt for it," Chris added. Eryn laughed.

"Oh, this is great. I love it! Ardariaen, the lowest, scummiest, back-stabbing, slipperiest demon around brought down by a loophole..." She grinned at them. "Talk about poetic justice." Chris grinned in return, then gestured upwards.

"You ready to go?" he asked. She nodded, then shot him and Wyatt a sheepish look.

"Um...would either of you mind giving me a lift? The Oath of Aureolus took a bit out of me, and I'm not sure if I'd be able to get out of the Underworld," she told them. Chris nodded, then reached out and gently took her hand on his.

"Let's go," he told her. Her fingers closed around his, and he gave them a quick squeeze before he orbed them both out.

* * *


	23. Excalibur

**All That Matters**

Chapter 23 - Excalibur

Disclaimer: All disclaimers apply

Thank to Nina430 and Julia Adele for your kind reviews!Thanks also tokina24 and Key of Darknessfor Beta-ing this chappie.

Author's Note: May 16, 2004 was the original air-date for the episode 'It's a Bad Bad Bad Bad World: Pt 2', which is the episode where Chris is born...hence,I am using it for his birthdate.

* * *

"So how exactly did you find me?" Eryn asked as they materialised in the kitchen of the Manor. Chris started to reply, then realised that revealing how they had found her would involve telling her he had gone through her bag. Searching for another explanation, he realised he still held her hand, and released it.

"We scried," Wyatt supplied, ignoring Chris' glare. :_ She's going to find out sooner or later, _: the older witch informed his brother.

:_ Yeah, but I was hoping it wouldn't have to be until _after_ we'd vanquished Ardariaen...that way, she'd be so grateful she wouldn't think to kill me, _: Chris told him. Wyatt shrugged, then both boys realised Eryn was speaking.

"Again: how exactly...I was in the Underworld." When neither of her male counterparts were forth-coming, Eryn arched an eyebrow and began to tap her foot. "Well?" Both boys looked at each other, then Chris sighed.

"We...uh...used a map," he admitted. Both Eryn's eyebrows rose.

"A map?" she echoed. Wyatt nodded.

"Yep."

"A map you just happened to have lying around of the Underworld?" she asked doubtfully.

"Yeah," Chris said. Eryn arched an eyebrow again, and he relented. "Okay, fine...we used your map," he told her. Eryn stared at him.

"My map of the Underworld?" she asked. Wyatt nodded.

"Yep."

"That was in my Book." The way she said the word left them in no doubt as to what Book she was referring to.

"Mm-hmmm," Chris said.

"That was in my bag."

"Uh-huh," Wyatt affirmed. She rounded on him.

"Are you saying you went through my bag?" she demanded. He pointed immediately to Chris.

"Hey, don't look at me, _he_ did," he told her defensively.

"Gee, thanks Wy," Chris said sarcastically, shooting him a dirty look and studiedly avoiding Eryn's gaze.

"You went through my bag?" she asked him. He shook his head in denial.

"Look, technically I _didn't_ go through it...I just opened it up, saw the Book, tried to get it, realised it was too far away, dumped everything out so I could get it, then shoved all your other stuff back in...to your bag. I didn't actually go through _anything_...except the Book, that is, and both me _and_ Wy went through that." When there were no signs of Eryn exploding, he chanced a glance at her. She didn't look angry, he noted...instead, she looked more puzzled, a sentiment confirmed by her next question.

"How the hell did you get into my bag? Did you say a spell or something?" she asked. Chris shook his head.

"No...why would I have to say a spell?" he responded. Eryn dismissed his question with a wave of her hand.

"Never mind...when's your birthday?" she shot back. Chris' confusion deepened.

"May 16...why?"

Eryn ignored him.

"Wow, that's weird. Um...you weren't born at, like, eleven o'clock at night by any chance, were you?"

"Almost...10.54. Why?"

"Are you serious?" Eryn demanded. He nodded slowly.

"Um, yeah. Again, why? Why is it so important that you know when I was born?" he asked her. She shot him a wry grin.

"Because I was born at 10.54 at night on May sixteenth, too."

Chris stared at her. "What?" he demanded. She shrugged.

"Yeah...and that's how I kept my bag locked," she replied. He frowned.

"Excuse me?" he queried, confused. She sighed.

"I put a spell...on my bag. Only a person born at 10.54 on the sixteenth of May, 2004 would be able to open it," she explained, and shrugged again. "I didn't think there'd be anyone else born at that exact date and time...at least, not on this continent...hell, even in this hemisphere..." She trailed off and gave him another wry grin. "Guess I was wrong."

"Guess so," he replied. Wyatt sighed and waved at them.

"Um, hey there. Listen, I know this is really interesting and all, but we've got a little problem...no scratch that, we've got a _big_ problem. Make that multiple big problems."

"What..." Eryn began, but broke off with a cough which turned into a coughing fit. Chris pounded her on the back.

"Are...you...O...kay?" he demanded between blows. Eryn fought him off, still coughing..

"I'm fine...guess the dust from the dungeon didn't agree with me," she rasped. She glared at him and slapped at his hands. "Quit hitting me!"

Biting back a grin, Chris quit hitting her and TK'd a glass from the cupboard to the sink, then TK'd the _COLD_ tap on. Once the glass was full, he beckoned, and it hovered over to him. He handed it to Eryn, who took it from him with a nod of thanks and gulped down the contents. Wyatt gestured to the table and they all sat down.

"What problems would those be?" Eryn asked once her coughs had subsided. Wyatt frowned, then held up a hand and began to list things on his fingers.

"One: we have to vanquish Ardariaen. Two: we have no idea how to vanquish Ardariaen. Three: we have limited time to figure out a way to vanquish Ardariaen. Four..."

"Something blah blah blah Ardariaen," Chris said, rolling his eyes. Wyatt glared at him.

"I was going to say..." he began, but Chris interrupted him.

"Yeah, whatever...basically, you were going to say we're screwed."

"Well, I do have some good news," Eryn said as she took another sip of her water. Both brothers glanced up.

"Really?" Chris asked.

"Like what?" Wyatt added. Eryn lay the glass back down, then looked up at them.

"He's weak," she said quietly. Chris frowned.

"Weak?" he echoed. She nodded slightly.

"Weak. Or more to the point, drained. Of strength…and of power. The Oath of Aureolus does that to you. It…"

"Just a question," Chris interrupted. "What's the Oath of Auri…Aurol…"

"Aureolus?" Eryn said.

"Yeah. That. What is it? We've never heard of it."

Eryn grinned wryly. "Yeah, well, you wouldn't have. Because it's a demonic oath. You invoke Aureolus, the demon of bonds, oaths, and truth to bear witness to an oath and to hold the parties participating to that oath. That's one of the reasons you have to be very specific when you make the Oath. Aureolus is human - so to speak - and he tends to take what is said at face value. Sometimes - like today - that favours one of the parties involved." She frowned. "Now where was I? Oh yeah…

"The Oath of Aureolus is a bitch to use, because it drains the strength and powers of the casters for a short time. It's only used for really serious oaths - like mine and Ardariaen's - because no one wants to expend that much energy just to promise they'll pick up some gremlin blood after they've murdered a day's Innocents…" Chris and Wyatt both stared at her; she shrugged.

"Just putting it into perspective…it _is_ a demonic oath, after all," she said defensively. Wyatt shook his head.

"Okay then…so, he's weak. How does that help us?" he asked. Eryn leaned forward in her chair.

"It helps us because we never could've taken him before. He was much too powerful. Think the last three Sources combined, and you've got my father. But _now_, we…"

"Hang on, what's all this 'we' business?" Chris interrupted teasingly, his eyebrows rising. Eryn looked at him searchingly, then sighed and got to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she told them. "I just assumed...if you don't want to get involved in this, that's fine." She started out of the kitchen, undoubtedly heading for the attic; Wyatt and Chris shot each other alarmed looks.

"Hey, hey, hold it," Wyatt called. Chris nodded.

"Yeah, wait...Eryn, I was just kidding." When she turned back, he gave her an apologetic look. "Sometimes my mouth goes and says something without consulting my brain. We _are_ going to help you vanquish Ardariaen...I promise." Eryn looked at him for a moment, then nodded and sat back down.

"Okay, let's focus at the task at hand," Wyatt said. "We need a spell - or potion - to vanquish Ardariaen. Any ideas?" Chris shook his head.

"Not a clue," Eryn added. Wyatt glanced at her.

"Yeah, I know...but, since you know the most about Ardariaen, you should probably be the person to write the spell," he told her. Eryn sighed.

"I guess. I just don't know how I'm going to come up with a spell in..." She broke off, a faraway look in her eyes. Chris frowned.

"Eryn...Eryn," he said, putting a hand on her arm and shaking her slightly. She looked at him.

"Sorry...I was just thinking of something Ardariaen said. Before he took me to his lair...in the attic. He said something, about a vanquishing spell..." Chris nodded as she trailed off.

"Yeah...I remember. He said something like, 'You think you've got a vanquishing spell for me hidden in your mind', right?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Wyatt asked, his dark eyes ticking between Eryn and Chris. "I mean, you _don't_ have a spell for him...do you?" Eryn frowned.

"I...I don't know..." She trailed off, the faraway look in her eyes again. Then...

"Demon of all castes combined, be vanquished here and at this time. By forces black and forces white, leave this earth and leave my sight. By Spirit and the Elements four, this space won't hold you anymore. This is now my one desire, to have your essence consumed by fire," Eryn sang, her voice rising and falling in a simple melody. Chris and Wyatt stared at her.

"Where did that come from?" Chris asked when she was finished. Eryn shook her head slowly.

"My Mom. She...when I was little, my Mom always used to tell me this story. In it, there was a demon...the most powerful demon in the world. He was chasing after this girl...I can't remember why, but I guess it isn't important." She leant forward. "In the story, there was a spell..."

"Let me guess...the one you just sang?" Chris asked. She nodded.

"Yeah. Mom would sing it to me every time she told me the story. She said it was the spell the girl would use to vanquish the demon." She glanced at Chris, then at Wyatt. "What if it wasn't a story? What if it was reailty? What if my Mom figured out the spell for me, and told it to me in a way that I'd remember, even over a decade?" Wyatt nodded.

"Powerful demon, trying to catch a girl, and the spell talks about 'all castes combined'...definitely some parallels," he agreed.

"But," Chris said slowly, "I don't think your Mom counted on one thing." Eryn frowned.

"What's that?" she asked. He grinned.

"She didn't count on the fact that you'd have help." Glancing at the counter, he TK'd the suspension letter from his school over, as well as a pen. He handed them to her. "Write down the words to the spell, and we can change it to a spell for all three of us to say. With the culmination of the Pen-Ultimae line and two of the progeny of the Charmed Ones saying the spell, Ardariaen will _definitely_ bite the dust." Eryn laughed and began to write. Once she was done, she held the paper up and looked at the Halliwells.

"Here you go...one possible Ardariaen Vanquishing Spell. Now what?

Wyatt nodded to Chris. "Give it to Chris; he's the best spell-writer out of the two of us." Chris grinned and took the spell from Eryn.

"Thanks," he said as he began to work on the spell. Wyatt rolled his eyes.

"On second thought, maybe I shouldn't have said that," he muttered. Eryn laughed.

"Probably not," she agreed, then frowned again. Wyatt noticed.

"What?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I don't know...I guess I'm just thinking that there's no way it's going to be this easy. I mean, a spell, and that's it? If it was that simple, then why hasn't anyone tried it before?"

Wyatt nodded reluctantly. "You're right. It can't be that easy." He was silent for a moment. "Was there anything else in your Mom's story that might have to do with this?" he asked finally. "A potion, crystals, some sort of amulet?" Eryn shook her head.

"No...it was always just the spell," she replied. Chris glanced up at her.

"Just out of curiosity," he asked, "how did the story end?"

"It didn't," she replied. She swallowed. "Mom always said that I'd have to finish it for myself."

----

"Okay, I think I've got it," Wyatt said half an hour later.

Eryn looked up from her Book of Shadows; they had relocated to the attic because Chris had been having a hard time reworking the spell in the kitchen: he said it felt too much like homework, writing it at the kitchen table.

"Got what?" she asked. Wyatt grinned.

"The missing piece to the puzzle," he replied. "We need something powerful...extremely so. Something that is an undeniable force of good; that can act as a catalyst for our combined powers."

"And, let me guess, you have just the thing, right?" Eryn asked.

"Yeah," Wyatt said, getting to his feet. "I have just the thing." Chris looked up.

"If you're thinking about what I think you're thinking about, then good, 'cause I've already written it into the spell," he informed his brother. Wyatt's grin broadened.

"Tell us what you've got," he suggested. Chris nodded and began to read the reworded spell, emphasising the alterations.

"Demon of all castes combined, be vanquished here and at this time. By forces black and forces white, leave this earth and leave _our_ sight. By Spirit and the Elements four, this space won't hold you anymore. This is now _our_ one desire, to have your essence consumed by fire. _Power of the Pen-Ultimae line, with Charmed magic now combine. Excalibur, speed this magic well, to send this demon straight to hell. By the power of us Witches three, be vanquished now, so mote it be._" When he finished, he arched an eyebrow.

"So what do you think?" he asked. Eryn nodded.

"It's good...just, what's that part about Excalibur?" she asked. Chris grinned.

"Well..." he said, glancing at Wyatt. His older brother smirked.

"I...uh...I own Excalibur," he told her. Eryn frowned.

"What do you mean 'own Excalibur'?"

"I mean 'own' as in 'the legendary sword Excalibur, formerly owned by King Arthur, is currently mounted on the wall above my bed, having recognised me as its next bearer'," he explained. She stared at him.

"You mean to say you have _Excalibur_ hanging over your bed?" she demanded. Chris smirked.

"Better hope it doesn't fall in the night, eh Wy?" he asked. Wyatt grinned and winked, then gestured for the two younger witches to follow him.

----

"Whoa," Eryn said when she saw it.

"Yeah, I know...what a pig sty," Chris told her as he waded through the mess of books, clothes, and other miscellaneous junk.

"Tell me about it," Eryn grumbled, yelping as she stepped on something that squeaked. She sighed in relief when she saw it was a dog's chew toy, then frowned. "You guys have a dog?" she asked.

"Had a dog," Wyatt replied, stepping easily through the mess. He made it to his bed and began to undo the straps that held something that Eryn couldn't see but presumed to be Excalibur in place.

"Sparky," Chris supplied. "He was a German Shepherd. He's in the Big Kennel in the Sky now." Eryn winced.

"Sorry," she said. Chris waved away the apology.

"It's okay. He had a good life, didn't he, Wy?"

"Yeah, great life...but how he managed to survive all those demon and Darklighter attacks, I'll never know," the older Halliwell responded. Then, "Ah, got it!" He stepped back and turned around.

Excalibur was a beautiful sword: its one-and-a-half handed hilt was made of gold and in-laid with precious stones; its blade was the finest steel and - from what Eryn could see - perfectly balanced. But it wasn't just the beauty of the ancient weapon that caught Eryn's eye; it was the aura of power that it gave off, now that it rested in its lord's hand. As Eryn watched, a golden shimmer passed through the sword, rippling from the tip to the hilt, where Wyatt's hand gripped it...and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this sword would enable them to vanquish Ardariaen.

"Wow," she whispered. Wyatt grinned.

"Yeah, I get that reaction alot," he said, swinging the sword in a lazy crescent. It hummed through the air; a slash of gold was left in its wake, and slowly faded.

"Show off," Chris accused. Wyatt shrugged.

"But of course," he replied. Chris rolled his eyes, then glanced around.

"Uh, can we get out of here now?" he asked, shifting uneasily. Wyatt's grin broadened.

"He's allergic to mess," he informed Eryn. Chris shook his head.

"I'm not allergic...I just can't see how anyone can allow a place to get this messy without doing something to clean it up." And with that he orbed out, his orbs moving upwards and disappearing through the ceiling.

* * *

Chapter 24 will be up as soon as I've written it...don't worry, it shouldn't take too long!

Luv ShaedowCat


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